Summer's End
by dominiquesdh
Summary: *SEQUEL TO TWELVE DAYS IN AUGUST* August to September 1801. England is under French rule. But for the Bennet family what could have been a major disaster became a very fortunate situation since both Jane and Lizzie are now happily married. Come and witness what happens to the Bennet tribe in occupied England.
1. Pemberley the day after

**Title**_**: Summer's End **_

**Author**: dominiquesdh

**Theme**: Alternate Universe – Historical drama - Romance (free variation based on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. This fanfic is a sequel of _Twelve days in August_which took its liberty with P&P at book III chapter II)

**Caution**_**spoiler alarm**_: If you haven't read yet the first book please stop reading here since the summary will probably spoil quite a lot of the story's plot. So be so kind as to look first at the first book under: .net/s/4454840/1/Twelve_days_in_August or here.

**Summary**: We read the year 1801. On August the first, French troops came ashore in Brighton. Nobody was able to stop them and at the middle of the month of August the whole of England's Counties were under French rule. Meanwhile, Geoffroy d'Arcy, commander in chief of the invading troops did meet a certain Jane Bennet in Rosings… This encounter had consequences since Sunday the sixteenth August 1801 Jane Bennet became Jane d'Arcy… Summer's End begins the day following the wedding at an unknown –_if late_– hour…

(Cast: all traditional characters of Jane Austen's P&P, a few new ones, including d'Arcy and a few historic figures such as George, Prince of Wales and Napoleon, at that time Premier Consul de la République Française...)

**Disclaimer** : The characters I serve here _are_ Jane Austen's even if after two centuries they legally belong to all of us. Only those few I created are mine and I hope they'll bring something interesting to the story.

**Remarks:**  
My story is based on Jane Auten's book for the story and the 2005 movie for the visuals.

**Previews** :

A (different) version of this fanfic already exists partially in French and in the next weeks it will be my mission to end the French version. My French reader got book one first and you will have the privilege to get the whole book two first.

I'm no English native speaker and from time to time some failures (let's hope tiny ones) will slip into my texts and escape the vigilance of my beta reader. Please let us know if there's a better way to say it in English…

As in book one, I'll use US spelling.

This second part is now completed. All 60 chapters plus Epilogue are written and are being edited at this very moment and the story, having found its own life, is already asking to be extended. It was very kind of all of you to read my first story and it was even kinder for those of you who encouraged me with their comments. It helps a lot to have a feed back to pull you into going on. As said it was quite an adventure and I loved it. I hope this second part will please you as did the first. Let me know your opinion!

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**BOOK TWO: SUMMER'S END**

**PART ONE: HONEYMOON AT PEMBERLEY**

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**Chapter one: ****Pemberley Wedding's Wake**

**__________________________________  
**

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Monday the seventeenth August. **

**__________________________________  
**

She inhaled his fragrance and basked in the sensation of being with him in their bed her head lying on his back and his gentle snoring rocking her...

She let her hand glide from his buttocks to his hair and soon her lips were painting a picture of love everywhere on his back.

Soon she could hear him grumble.

A smile blossomed on her face while she went on with her light kisses.

She felt his head turning toward her.

"Have you no mercy, madam for a poor exhausted man?"

She looked him in the eyes.

"Why should I, dear husband? Wasn't it you who proposed to marry my sister and me? If I'm quite satisfied with the part belonging to me, I'm not inclined to waste that other part which was to be my sister's due..."

He moved and she found herself lying on him, his strong arms closing around her.

His eyes were sparkling.

"You do know that my marriage will be a nightmare if each of my words comes back to haunt me, don't you?"

She smirked at him.

"Not each of them, my dear husband. Only those uttered by the braggart or the fool in you! "

Her hands became more insistent and soon found the object of her interest.

"I'll soon see if this morning it was the braggart or the fool speaking..."

He lifted her to let their lips touch.

"And what will be the difference?"

She kissed him back.

"I could surely forgive the fool," whispered she, "the braggart, I'm not sure..."

He finally received her forgiveness!

____________________________

Late in the afternoon she woke up to his light snoring.

She breathed happily just before standing up and opening the window. The air was stale inside and she was quite satisfied to breathe the fresh air of Pemberley's park.

"What a wonderful view..."

She turned at his words and looked in his eyes.

He was lying prone and there was no sign that he was awake.

But for his last words.

"Sorry if I woke you," said she. "I needed fresh air..."

"I felt you standing up," answered he. "I was going to catch you when your _derrière_ caught my eyes. I could only look and drool! God help me, but naked you're even more beautiful than dressed... I do believe I could look at your marvelous body until the end of time..."

She smiled at the compliment.

"I fear the passing of the years would change a few things, there..."

He shook his head.

"I know I will always remember you as you are now... I have just been granted the most beautiful sight on earth, how could I ever forget it?"

She laughed at him and shook her head, disbelief in her eyes.

"You spent quite a few hours discovering it yesterday, by now you should know it by heart..."

He went on looking at her, his eyes roaming every part of her body.

"I do only begin to discover it and I'll need many more years to know it by heart. But even then it won't be the same. What I see now has nothing to do with lust or passion. I look at perfection and I'm overwhelmed. I just can't believe my eyes..."

She came slowly toward the bed and seeing him looking at her she flushed...

His eyes were so intense, showed such admiration that she could feel her skin tingle under his gaze...

He raised his hand and she took it.

He gently pulled her to his side.

"_Viens, mon amour,_ I feel myself ready to honor you once more..."

"We should..." tried she but he hushed her with a kiss.

"Hush, I'm not yet convinced that you're at my side. I need more proof... Urgently!"

She kissed him back and smiled while his lips began their exploration. Last night, after having goaded him into another round of love making, she had discovered that she could lead the dance. But she had also understood that there was bliss in inactivity. Now she felt like letting him do what had to be done...

________________________________________________

"Satisfied?"

She frowned.

He had asked that question quite a few times these last hours.

"Would I whimper and groan as loud as I did if I were not? Why do you need my verbal confirmation to believe that I am satisfied with what we did together when my most inner feelings were exposed in sound and gesture?"

He smiled and kissed her with a renewed passion.

"I always forget that perfection of yours, _mon amour_, I just can't believe how lucky I am..."

That was another of those remarks that came back very often. She shook her head lightly while he was brushing the lightest kisses on her face.

"I'm not perfect, my husband, of that I'm quite sure..."

He looked at her and his fingers flew along the curves of her body.

"I have a Christian name, _mon amour._ Nobody has used it for more than twenty-five years. I would be honored if my wife would agree to use it..."

She agreed; she had heard it.

"I know and I'd be glad to use it. How do you prefer me to pronounce it? Geoffroy or Geoffrey?"

He smiled.

"As you wish, it's not important. It's you and only you who will have to bear that burden of my past. For all the others I will be d'Arcy or, hopefully, Papa... Perhaps the English version would be easier since being slightly different it could be seen as a new beginning..."

"Geoffrey it will be then!"

She raised her hands behind his neck and pulled him toward her. He didn't resist.

"I love you, Geoffrey..." whispered she after another lengthy kiss.

He nodded and kissed her back.

"There's no word to express the feelings I have for you..." confessed he. "I'm so glad you accepted my suit... You are the nearest to perfection I have encountered while I'm so imperfect and clumsy and rough. I still can't fathom why you love me..."

She smiled.

He was not speaking empty words. She saw in his eyes that the wonder he was expressing was his genuine feeling.

They spent the next minutes cuddling with each other, but Jane never forgot the term burden he used to speak about his name.

When they were lying in each other's arms she decided it was perhaps time to know her husband better.

"Why should your name be a burden for me?"

First he didn't react and simply stayed completely still.

Then he sighed.

"Mine was not a happy youth..." said he finally. "I'm the second son of a man I despised and loathed and hated... Would he still have been alive when I came back I would have killed him slowly using all the arts I learned in China from the Son of Heaven's best torturers..."

A little smile appeared on his lips.

"The Republic did it for me and that's a crime I don't have to bear for the rest of my life." He chuckled. "But sometimes I regret not having been there in time to do it. I had imagined it for so long. I learned the skills of a torturer thinking only of him. Thinking how he would cry and shout and yell while I was cutting him in very tiny pieces... It was quite a disappointment to learn that he was killed so cleanly..."

Jane tried to understand.

"You were named after him?"

He shook his head.

"No I was named after my mother's father. My brother, being the eldest was named after my father's father and me, being the second and my mother being an only child, I was named after her father..."

Jane frowned...

What was it with his grandfather that shook him so?

"My father killed his father in law in order to get my mother's estates... And all my youth he boasted about it saying that, one day, I would get the same treatment..."

She saw a tear coming out of the corner of his eye...

"He scared me to death... I hated myself for it but I couldn't fight against it, he just scared me..."

She took him into her arms and cradled him there.  
It didn't seem to matter to him so lost was he in his memories.

"My father was a pig and a rapist," said he. "He respected nothing and nobody. His only goal in life was to amass more money and estates and to get under every woman's skirt he could get his hands on." He shook his head. "What made him more proud than anything else was the fact that he had begotten his first bastard at the age of thirteen... He was still boasting about it the day I slipped out of the house to go to England..."

She took his head in her hands and kissed him.

"Did you love nobody?"

"I loved my little sister... She was a dream of a girl. Kind and sunny. I don't believe I ever saw her crying..."

"And I loved my mother," he did finally admit. "But I also despised her for the weakness she showed before my father. She knew he had killed her father and never said a word. Never uttered the slightest accusation..."

Jane could well imagine Geoffrey's mother scared to death by her murderous husband. What could she have done? Kill him in his sleep. And then what? Would her eldest son have supported her?

"How was your brother?"

D'Arcy chuckled once more.

"He was the mirror image of my father. Big, ugly and stinking! At twenty half his teeth had fallen out of his rotting mouth. He was as big as an ogre ad as dumb as an ox. I'm not sure he ever opened a book in his life and I'm sure he could write nothing more than his name. But then he didn't need to write. He was _the_ son, the one who could do nothing wrong... I do really believe he spent my whole youth coercing and hitting me..."

Jane could only sigh. No wonder Geoffrey had wished to kill his father. No wonder he despised everybody.

She thought of his home. With a mother who could do nothing but fear what her murderous husband would do next, a son who was her husband's alter ego, and two younger children who were probably half scared to death most of the day.

She smiled...

First because of the happy home her parents had provided her and her sisters, then because of him... With such a background he could have become quite a monster himself. If she could be any judge, he had done very well indeed!

He was no longer scared by anything and he had found enough inner strength to overcome the failings of his blood in order to become a very decent human being.

Well at least in _her _eyes he was a very decent human being.

She was not sure the rest of the inhabitants of England were feeling quite the same about him, but then there she was, at his side and very ready to be England's last defender against France's greed.

She looked at him and saw in his eyes that his past was still present.

They had to speak about it. He was relaxed and happy. Now was as good a time as ever!

She had already received a few hints about what had happened to Geoffrey's family but she felt it was time for him to come out and speak about that part of his past...

"What happened to the rest of your family?"

He inhaled deeply and focused his eyes on her.

"Except for my sister they all died... I checked while in France. She is my only living relative. Every body else is dead. Most of them killed by the Revolution, my mother died here in England..."

"Where is your sister?"

"In Scotland where she lives with her family... My reports say she seems happy..."

"Your reports? Why only look at reports? I'm sure she would be happy to see you..."

He shook his head.

"It won't be a good idea... I was abroad when she and my mother needed me most; she's probably holding a grudge against me..."

She climbed a little nearer to his face.

_He is afraid_... She could feel it... She could even see it in his eyes... He was afraid of what would happen when they saw each other again!

"You would be dead had you been in France! Now you're alive and able to help her. I'm sure she will just be happy to have her brother back."

She pulled him to her side and cradled herself in his arms.

"Why don't we take a carriage and do go to Scotland?"

He shook his head.

"I can't... I will have to wait until the end of the negotiation with the Scots. If everything goes as I wish it, it will be possible. For now..."

"You could invite her... I'm sure she would come. And I'd like to know her! We Bennets are rather fond of sisters, you know?"

He smiled at her.

"I know, but I'm not sure... I don't know if I could overcome her reproaches..."

Jane frowned. It was as she feared. Mighty d'Arcy was scared of what would happen.

He feared being rejected...

She kissed him.

"Geoffrey, you're no longer alone... Whatever happens, I'm with you, the Bennets are with you... the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams are with you..."

That brought a frown.

_Why?_

Until now he had always spoken of the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams as family...

"You still consider your families here as family, don't you?"

"Yes, of course, but it's a very distant family... Darcy and I have clearly common ancestors but they are very remote. Our last common family member was probably one of my father's female ancestors who went to England to marry a Pemberley Darcy. I believe it was more than five hundred years in the past..."

Jane took a deep breath and summoned all her courage.

"What do you think of Fitzwilliam?"

He looked at her and his eyes began to sparkle.

"I like him... He is as I believe a Gentleman should be. He is the epitome of correct upbringing. I can't imagine anybody more suited to incorporate the stiff, arrogant and haughty English aristocrat..."

She shot him a dark glance.

"You said you liked him.."

"But I do... really! He's just the little brother I always wished to have for as an older brother. It's just that the circumstances are not very favorable for us to become friends. Brothers we are thanks to you and your sister, but that will be all for quite a long time to come."

A smile appeared on his lips.

"And he finds such pride at opposing me. I would and could not deprive him of that last privilege."

"Couldn't you just come along peacefully?"

"We could and, some day, we will, but as I see it we won't for quite a few years. He has to prove to everybody that he is not my lackey. And I do believe he has chosen the best way to show that! As for now, everybody knows that his allegiance is not to me. He is family and as such we must show that we are of the same ilk and that should help us not to fight against each other. But that will not mean that he will work with me... I just hope that he won't be sucked into a rebellion against us. It's always possible, you know! For some people, it would be a sort of victory to have us fight one against the other..."

She looked at her husband and frowned.

"And it pleases you to taunt him..."

He answered with a guilty smile.

"I confess that I like it when he becomes upset. His shoulders are straightening, his fists..."

"Stop it! I've seen it... You're quite ungentlemanly in that matter..."

He caught her and pulled her against him.

"There's only one person in the whole universe for whom I want to be a gentleman," whispered he in her ear. "And I hold her in my arms..."

He inhaled deeply.

"There are a few others I respect enough not to be my normal amoral and ruthless self with, but then they are not very numerous and probably concentrated here in Pemberley and in a few army camps in England..."

He felt her smile.

"How do you cope with Papa?"

"Don't be afraid, I like him quite a lot. Having seen what a nightmare a father can become, I do like his interpretation of one. And he's the only man I ever encountered who was never afraid of me..."

He cradled her in his arms and let his head lie on her shoulder

"That's quite an accomplishment, I must say. Most men feel instinctively the ruthless killer I'm deep within and they know instantly that I'm not a man to be trifled with. Even Napoleon was frightened of me the first time we met... And _that's _a man who fears nothing but his own ambition..."

Jane was tempted to ask him questions about the man Great Britain believed until recently to be her nemesis. But that would have to wait. He needed her support not her curiosity. And she was quite satisfied with what he just confessed about her family...

"How was your first encounter with Papa?"

He laughed.

"He smelled your perfume on me and gave me a tongue lashing... It was quite extraordinary, indeed! I was there looking down at him but it was me who felt the smaller of the two. It was as if I was, for a small time period, again a young pup who'd just made a great blunder. But even while admonishing me, he showed a willingness not to force you into anything. And that was a gift I greatly appreciate. I wanted you willing and secure in of your choice, not forced by traditions and social constraints."

His grasp tightened and his lips fumbled with the skin of her neck. She purred her pleasure.

After a few minutes of pure bliss he looked up into her eyes.

"He gave you the freedom to decide for yourself... Not many fathers would have resisted the pull of wealth and power and ambition. He did... I'm even sure it never crossed his mind. He was just upset by my conduct, not blinded by the happy circumstances of how he would be able to force us into matrimony. I'm really quite satisfied with my father-in-law..."

He stopped her next question with a kiss on her lips.

"And to stop your inquiry right here, please know that I'm also quite satisfied with the rest of the Bennet family. Even your sister Mary, with all her stiffness and insufferable piety, has that inner strength that gives her the power to remain a decent human being... So yes, I'm happy and no I have nothing to reproach any of your relatives..."

His smiling eyes searched her face.

"Are you reassured, now?"

She nodded and kissed him back.

He accepted her gift and answer and soon they were lost in each other's pleasure.


	2. Pemberley Politics

The following day...

____________________

**Chapter two: ****Pemberley Politics**

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**

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Tuesday the eighteenth August. **

**__________________________________________  
**

Honeymooning at Pemberley was what she would have wished if she could have known that such a satisfying phase of marital life existed.

The first day they just did not come out of their room.

Time just ceased to exist and if they noticed that the sun came up and then went down it was only a by product of the necessity to air their room.

But even in their protected little love nest politics were able to find them since, this very morning, she had had the bad surprise to awaken to an empty bed...

Just a little sheet of paper with a drawn heart and three words were there to show that he wasn't absent without thinking of her.

She groaned and decided that without him their bed was uninteresting.

She spent a few minutes looking for a nightgown she had only seen for a few seconds before forgetting its very existence.

Finding nothing she decided that it was not worth the time and took her husband's dressing gown to go to the bath room...

A bath and a hairdressing later she was walking swiftly toward the main Pemberley manor.

Fitzwilliam had loaned them the dowager's house where the widowed mother of a new Master would live while her son and his wife would take over the Manor.

The house had not been used for decades but it was perfectly furnished and equipped with most of all the modern amenities of life...

She was walking toward the side entrance when she saw Lizzy coming out and running toward her.

They were in each others arms for quite a few joyful minutes...

_________________________________________________

"Well, Madame d'Arcy, we were afraid we would never see you again..."

"If everything would have continued as these last hours, it could very well have happened, Mrs. Darcy, but this morning I found myself alone in an empty bed. So I decided to look at something else than the canopy of said bed..."

"You disappeared for more then twenty-four hours, Madame d'Arcy... Quite busy, weren't you?"

"We had a lot to discover, Mrs. Darcy. We, who had no opportunity to test marital life in advance..."

"That's only because you were separated," winked Elizabeth. "I'm sure that being under the same roof would have been quite a very difficult challenge!"

Jane shook her head as her smile was shrouded in doubt.

"I don't think so, Lizzy. He wanted me to remain free to refuse him. It would have been a difficult challenge, but he would have held his ground. He's a rather strong-willed fellow when it comes to things that are import to him. But I regret nothing... He's the man I always wished existed. And with me he has no secrets..."

Lizzy's eyes began to shine.

"Personal secrets?"

"Many," agreed Jane while taking Lizzy's hand. "Let's get something to eat and afterwards I'll tell you what I feel I can speak of. He spoke of his youth..."

"So did Fitzwilliam. It seems quite important to them, doesn't it?"

"His was rather traumatic. Did you know that his father..."

They entered the house under the attentive gaze of more than a dozen interested people.

Including Fitzwilliam Darcy who couldn't smother a smile. His –_he basked in that possessive_– Elizabeth was quite a different person when in company of her elder sister. She probably did not know it but as soon as she had seen Jane walking along the way coming to Pemberley her features had changed drastically. She no longer had been the happy young wife he loved. She suddenly metamorphosed into a very young girl with shining eyes and bouncy gait.

She looked to him with a silent question in her eyes and as soon as he had nodded his approval, had kissed him on the lips and rushed out of the room.

And it was the little girl who was running along the corridor and he felt a tear running down his cheek. He knew that it was a privilege to be able to see her in that state. Most women never ever showed their husbands that side of their personality. But then most women were just doing their part of the marital bargain. His Elizabeth had never envisioned being only part of a contract. She had confessed that she was waiting for true love and would have gladly accepted ending up a spinster if the right man hadn't shown himself.

Fitzwilliam was happy and proud to have been the right man for Lizzy Bennet.

Since she was the right woman for Fitzwilliam Darcy, everything was as it should be!

If one forgot d'Arcy and the French...

Which he could accomplish only when in Elizabeth's arms.

Otherwise the facts were always looming in his mind. Great Britain was no longer the center of a dynamic empire, it was the last acquisition of a new blossoming one...

His would-be King had fled London and was running like a madman toward Liverpool to embark and flee even further away.

How could he? How could they?

He was just at the brink of hitting the nearest wall when he saw a group of riders coming out of the wood surrounding Pemberley and trotting towards the house.

The number of blue uniforms was usual. What was not was the little flock of red ones in their middle.

What could British soldiers be doing at Pemberley?

He turned and walked briskly toward the stairs.

He could be there in time without running.

And since d'Arcy was in the Manor receiving the first Scottish envoys he would not be seen running.

Never!

____________________________________

Richard Fitzwilliam was rather upset by being surrounded by so many blue and white uniforms. But then he could do nothing against them.

Not with only a colonel, two captains and six troopers to stand at his side.

But then, they had nothing to do but follow, didn't they?

He would have liked to come with an army but since there was no more such an army, six men and three aides would be everything he had been granted.

If he was here, it was after all only his fault alone...

He had asked his Highness the authorization to attend his cousin's marriage but George had denied him that right.

"You must stay with me till we are in Liverpool. As soon as I'm on my way, I'll grant you the right to see your cousin. I'll do even more! I'll nominate you my personal envoy to that d'Arcy fellow. Follow him everywhere and send me reports about what he is doing..."

There George had looked at him with a questioning gaze.

"What's the nearest town to Pemberley?"

"Lambton," answered Richard Fitzwilliam. "It's not a big town but it's a town..."

"Then it will be Lambton. I'll send a few people there to establish a link between us... You know the inns I suppose?"

Fitzwilliam nodded not liking the thought behind his Prince's words but then, what was it that he liked about George the future Fourth?

"Well go get Russel and give him a complete description of the inn you'll use as a post office. Just give him a place where you'll be able to put your missives where my men will be able to retrieve them without being seen. You won't have to see each other or even to know each other. I just want your reports on a regular base! Daily?"

And so it was that General Richard Fitzwilliam was arriving at Pemberley as the special envoy of the King of...

Fitzwilliam snorted.

King of what? Ireland, Canada and India? How long would the Americans wait before attacking the Canadian provinces? How long would the Irish wait before launching their next rebellion? And how long would the British troops last in India when the Indian Maharajahs got wind that Great Britain was neither Great nor British?

_My, my, aren't we in deep shit_?

______________________________________

The reds and their blue and white escort were arriving at the door of Pemberley when he saw his cousin mounting his preferred horse in the middle of the column.

A smile blossomed on Fitzwilliam Darcy's lips.

He was glad to see that Richard was alive and in good health. Not quite happy but as a British General he had a few reasons to be very unhappy, hadn't he?

"Richard..." called he while going down the stairs. "Happy to see you're well. Georgiana and I were a little worried. We knew you were in the vicinity and you were not present at the wedding..."

"My Prince needed me 'til the end. Now he sails toward Ireland and I'm his envoy to the new authorities of Gr...."

"His spy you mean," said another voice coming from the top of the stairs.

All but Fitzwilliam who had heard his cousin –brother– coming behind him, looked up.

"Of course," countered Richard with a smile of his own. "That's what an envoy is, isn't he? And since we are cousins it could even be that I survive my thorough spying..."

"We'll see..." answered d'Arcy. "For the spying I mean. For the surviving, I'm sure our cousin will be able to guarantee it while you're here at Pemberley..."

Fitzwilliam sighed.

Of course he would speak of him forcing the host of Pemberley to turn and acknowledge his guest.

Having no longer a choice without being impolite, he did look at his brother and acknowledge his arrival!

"Monsieur," said Fitzwilliam. "How are you this morning?"

"Quite fine, quite fine, dear _brother_..."

Fitzwilliam just let it pass.

"I've seen our spouses eating in the morning parlor," d'Arcy went on. "We could join them there with our new guests, couldn't we?"

Fitzwilliam gritted his teeth and managed a smile and a nod.

"Indeed," said he. "We could..."

__________________________

The morning parlor was full with the ladies of Pemberley.

The whole young Bennet tribe was present plus Georgiana and the Gardiner girls. Mrs. Bennet, Gardiner and Reynolds were upstairs preparing the departure of the Gardiner family who would go back to London in two days...

Mr. Bennet had taken a look, frowned, gotten a few rolls and had fled toward the library and, having retrieved the book he wanted, toward the flower garden where he loved to read and nap...

"Twenty one titles..."

"We could visit..."

"He's so sweet, you can't imagine the softness of..."

"Clearly God's wrath for..."

"Dolls aplenty in the attic, you could look which..."

Fitzwilliam light cough made them all turn and look at the door.

Georgiana was the first to react and she was in Richard's arms as soon as she could.

"Richard, what a pleasant surprise. What are you..."

"Later dear," answered Richard while bowing and kissing her hand. "I'll explain everything... For now I'm eager to be acquainted with all of the interesting and lovely young ladies I'm not yet acquainted with... Could you, please, dear, introduce us?"

She did as she was asked and soon Richard Fitzwilliam, second son of the Earl of Matlock, was flirting with the young ladies.

As usual, his charm and flirtation skills worked wonders and he was soon at the center of everybody's attention.

Being a gentleman and a soldier of His Majesty he took great care not to forget any of the young ladies around the table and soon he was a favorite of the youngest members of the Clan.

The breakfast went on for far longer than usual even after the Lady of Pemberley, soon joined by her eldest sister, and their husbands, quitted the room.

_____________________________________________

Later, General Fitzwilliam, walking slowly between Georgiana and Kitty, was sauntering alongside the lake.

"So you're the last Bennet sister," said he while looking at the blue and white shadows who were following them.

"No, the last Bennet sister is named Lydia, as you very well know," answered Kitty with a smile to soften her decisive words. "I'm only the last Bennet sister you're encountering, General. It's usually my burden. Not being as beautiful as Jane, not as witty as Elizabeth, not as savage as Lydia and not as boring as Mary, it's me men see when they are no longer dazzled by beauty, wit, exuberance or boredom... I'm the grey mouse of the Bennet Clan, General. And I'm, at last, very well acquainted with the fact that it is a great advantage..."

Richard looked at her and frowned.

"An advantage? How so?"

She laughed and he could only notice that her laugh was quite interesting.

"Because, General, it gives me the time to study all the besotted or chocked men who are besieging or fleeing my sisters while being quite invisible. I must admit that I was rather surprised that your glances went my way..."

Richard smiled at her.

"That's because it was you I'm interested in, Miss Catherine. I have already seen all of your sisters, you probably know that. Elizabeth being my cousin's wife and Jane being d'Arcy's wife it would have been unseemly –and in Jane's case too dangerous– to flirt with them. Mary being, I hope you'll forgive my frankness, rather single minded in her religiosity and Lydia being too young for a man my age, I had only one chance left to, eventually, grab the last Bennet jewel still available on the marriage market."  
Kitty couldn't help but blush at the compliment.

"You're too kind, General..."

"Nothing of the sort, dear Miss Catherine. I'm a man who's always been interested in women and pretty women had always had my favors. Now, as a second son, I always had that ugly obligation to marry well that prevented my looking at certain ladies without enough dowry. Now that I am a knighted gentleman in possession of his own estate, cousin to the man who holds the keys of said estate, I'm much more free to roam where my desire leads me. And since I saw your sister Jane I had that jealous longing to get at you before another Darcy got near enough to you to ruin my chances..."

That won him a hearty laugh from Kitty and Georgiana.

"Are you always so straightforward with ladies, General?"

"Only with last Bennets, Miss Catherine," answered he. "As said I was so frustrated that twice I had to accept the victory of a Darcy that I could not resist coming and trying to remind you of the existence of other handsome and dashing young men outside the Darcy Clan..."

"My, my cousin," said Georgiana. "It seems you have quite decided to impress our cousin Kitty."

"So I have, dear Georgiana. I'm not sure that my natural charm is enough to make her forget all the dark and nonchalant Darcy manners, but I swore that I would try to impress her and here I am trying!"

Bowing at them while speaking he won their laughter and their applause.

They went on chatting joyously and the General flirting shamelessly.

_________________________________________________

Elizabeth was looking at them with Fitzwilliam just behind her.

"It seems your cousin is trying something with one of our sisters," said she while basking under the light kisses her husband was placing on her neck.

"Not Georgiana, I'm sure," answered Fitzwilliam. "She is under his protection and never would he trespass on that sacred obligation of his."

"Then Kitty?"

"If you're right, then Kitty!"

"Strange... Why would a man with his background be interested in my younger sister?"

"Probably because I snapped you out from under his nose. He was quite infatuated with you last April, you know. Had he not feared his father's wrath he would have asked you..."

Elizabeth looked at her husband with surprise in her eyes.

"Would he have?"

"As sure as I can be since I made my first idiotic move just to be sure to be the first to ask..."

She laughed at him and granted him a long kiss.

"Your proposal was not idiotic, dear. It was I who..."

He stopped her.

"We were not ready, dear. And unprepared people do make awful mistakes. Thanks to God, you're now my wife and I'm the most satisfied man in the history of mankind..."

Elizabeth smiled at the exaggeration but did not correct him. One can only feel for oneself and she too was feeling as if she was the happiest woman in all of creation...

She opened her eyes and saw the trio disappear behind the trees around the lake.

"And having not got Elizabeth, he's after Kitty?"

"After having seen Jane he must have decided that he wanted his own part of the Bennet treasury. He and I were always a little jealous about the achievements of the other. It probably played a role in his decision to come here..."

"Is he not our Majesty's spy?"

"That he is with certainty but I'm sure it was him who asked permission to come. The Prince Regent has not enough good generals to send Richard away without a good reason and the only reason I can see is Richard's own demand."

Elizabeth was rather puzzled.

"But why has he accepted Richard's demand. If he has so few good generals, he should have insisted on making him stay."

Fitzwilliam sighed and stopped kissing his wife's neck.

"Generals are of no use without an army! And as for now, His Majesty no longer has an army. He has two regiments and one big police force. Nothing upon which to base a counterstrike. Richard could be of much more use if he gets intelligence out of Geoffrey and if he is able to send it back to the Crown Prince..."

Elizabeth could only shake her head.

"I wouldn't believe one word coming out of Geoffrey's Head Quarters were I the Crown Prince. Knowing the schemer Geoffrey is, I'm quite sure that everything cousin Richard will get will be false intelligence and clever ploys."

Fitzwilliam could do nothing but agree.

"But then Richard will, let's hope, not be the only source for the Crown Prince! And sometimes even false intelligence and clever ploys can teach you a lot about a situation..."

_Perhaps_, thought Elizabeth. _But then I'm not sure cousin Richard is still devoted to the Crown Prince_.

There had been a few little witty remarks that could have been interpreted as not very respectful for said Crown Prince.

But then it could have been a ploy to reassure Geoffrey.

She decided that politics was nothing she wanted to deal with.

Kitty was clearly another matter.

"Is he a serious man?"

"Worrying for poor little sister?"

"She's my little sister indeed. But she has also greatly improved her manners and her actions these last days. With Georgiana's help she's becoming quite an interesting young lady. I wouldn't like it if your cousin intended to play with her..."

"Believe me she knows those rules much better than we ever knew them and I'm sure Richard is not here to play at all. He wants to see if he has a chance with a Bennet of his own. Let them make their way together... We'll see what happens..."

Elizabeth sighed and could only nod.

She knew Kitty after all. And if there was one thing Kitty had learned from Lydia it was how to play with men without being burned...

But nevertheless she would have to speak with her father...

It was his role after all to look after his daughters.

And now that two of them were happily married his work load was so much lighter...

_____________________________

**Next week : Pemberley NIght Whisper**


	3. Pemberley Night Whisper

The following night...

---------------------------

**Chapter three: Pemberley Night whisper**

**___________________________________**

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Tuesday the eighteenth August. Night to morning.**

**_______________________________________________**

"You're late," said Jane from the bed they shared while putting aside the book she was reading. "I was despairing of seeing you again before tomorrow."

D'Arcy went to the bed and kissed her.

"Scots are very chatty people. They've spent the whole afternoon trying to convince me that their heart was at the side of their English brethren and that they came only out of politeness..."

Jane looked at him while he undressed.

"And they are not?"

"Of course not, dear. They are here because they hope I'm going to make a proposition which would save their autonomy. They still have no idea of what I'm going to propose. They believe I summoned them in order to get their surrender..."

Jane smiled at his smug little smile. He could be a real child from time to time. And seeing that all those grownups had not guessed his strategy was delighting him.

She jumped him and forced him to lie on the bed, his feet still on the floor but his back lying on the bed.

"You're wearing a nightgown tonight?"

"I hoped you'll welcome an opportunity to undress me..."

"Than your hopes shall have no longer to wait," said he while sliding his hands under said nightgown.

She did the same for his shirt and cravat.

"And what were your hopes?"

"Just that you would still be awake. And as I'm noticing that's clearly the case..."

"Awake and impatient," said she while brushing his chest with her lips. "As I said you are late.."

He sighed.

"That's the curse of being in charge. Not even our honeymoon will grant us freedom and tranquility. I'm a slave to my responsibilities. I hope you'll pardon me..."

She smiled at him and glided toward his trousers.

"There's some hope that I'll pardon you very quickly. Let's just free our little friend and see how he wants to act to get my forgiveness..."

Soon she had all the information she needed.

____________________________________

"Seems to me that you are quite an experienced lover..."

He opened an eye to look at her. Her tone was light but the message could be interpreted as a signal of misgivings.

She smiled at him but her eyes were full of unasked questions. He sighed and prepared himself for the flood which was swelling.

"You're not the first as you know very well..."

"Maureen was not your first," said she with an air of absolute certainty.

"How would you know?"

"She told me..."

He stood up and rested on his elbow while looking at her.

"You're exchanging secrets now?"

She smiled at him with an air of supreme confidence.

"Why not? We have a lot in common. And while I was awaiting the good pleasure of my Lord and Master I asked her for advice. I wouldn't want to risk disappointing you..."

He crouched on her.

"What do you mean, my dear wife?"

"Nothing, really! I was just curious and I asked her. And she confessed that you were already an accomplished lover the first night you bedded her..."

He looked her in the eyes.

"Jane, be serious, you cannot be jealous of women I met years ago..."

She frowned and placed her hands on his neck before pulling him to her.

"I know it's foolish but I can't help myself. I feel a burning jealousy for each and every one of the women you bedded since you were a lad. I try to reason with myself but it is to no avail, I'm just jealous. I can't stand the idea that there were women and that they still have importance for you..."

He sighed once more. He had always been attracted to fiery women who would love him in the way a firebrand would pass over a forest. And Jane was, at her core, as fiery as all the others he had sought out.

He kissed her.

"There is only one woman in my life who has the any importance and that's you. I won't deny that there were other women in my life and that, while they were with me, they gave me pleasure and confidence. But never have I loved one as I love you. I loved them, do not mistake me and most of them loved me, but we knew that our being together was a temporary thing. That it would not last. That some day, our paths would diverge and that we would follow our separate destinies."

She looked him in the eyes.

"Not so with us?"

He shook his head.

"Not so with us!" said he. "I knew the first moment I saw you that you were the very special being I was waiting for. I had lusted over other women but in your case it was not lust, it was recognition. I just knew that my long wait had found an end..."

She exhaled heavily.

"It took more time for me," confessed she. "It was in the grove. When I became a woman there was more happening than just the act of love. Something in my soul touched yours and I recognized you as the man I was waiting for. I already loved you but at that very moment I knew why I loved you!"

He smiled and brushed her lips with the most tender of smiles.

"And why do you love me?"

"Because I never had any choice not to..." whispered she. "I could have denied it but the fact is that the love I feel for you was not created by our being together. It was just revealed! I know now that it existed in me since the beginning of my life..."

He chuckled.

"And still you're jealous!"

"As a wild cat," answered she. "I would rip in pieces every woman who would make a pass at you!"

He kissed her and laid his head on her breasts.

"Don't lose any sleep over it. No woman will try. I can be rather uninviting if I choose to. And as for now I'm feeling rather satisfied with what I've got..."

She nodded and her arms came around him.

"Tell me about all those women who had the privilege to be yours before we met. I have to know. Only knowledge will give me serenity."

"I won't just give you a list. They were important to me, they deserve more than just being a name on a sheet of paper. They deserve a real story. Their story..."

She smiled at him.

"I'll be very happy to meet them..."

____________________________

"The first woman who became important in my life was a gift..."

"A gift?"

He nodded and smiled at himself. He was a mere boy and it was a gift he had craved for. That gift had enslaved him better than shackles to the man who had made him the gift. But he was so young then and so easily manipulated. When he thought back he could only be ashamed at his own naiveté.

"A gift," nodded he. "A gift from a very powerful man who knew how to read my heart. I was young and I just came out of ten years of monastical studies..."

She turned her head to look at him.

"You were a monk?"

"Not in the western sense. I was a warrior monk in what is more a school than a cloister. Everything I know of importance I learned there. They made me what I am. It was hard and tough but without it I wouldn't be what I'm now..."

"And you were sworn to celibacy?"

"No, the monks could have as many mistresses as they wanted. But that was not my case..."

She frowned at him.

"And why was it so. Were you not a real monk?"

"Indeed I was, but there was that the little problem of my being the most ugly monk women had ever encountered in their life..."

She stared at him. She couldn't believe it. She had yet to see a woman at Pemberley who would not look at him with longing in her eyes. Even her mother had cast hidden glances at his –she sniffed in appreciation– impressive buttocks. And if somebody would dare to ask her –as Lizzy had done– she would confess that the rest was even more enthralling.

He smiled at her mien.

"You must consider that I was the exact opposite of what Chinese women consider a beautiful male. I was as big as a giant monkey –they eat monkey there and they despise them–, I had a big nose, I had hair on my face and chest and, probably the most frightful feature: I had the eyes of a devil. And," he hesitated, "I had an...Instrument that was decidedly greater than the norm. I scared off the few who would have accepted my money. They could have slept with an ugly man but they refused to be torn apart..."

She smiled at him.

"I was hoping your... Instrument was not the norm. I take great satisfaction in learning that it is indeed exceptional."

He stopped her with a frown.

"It is exceptional in China, dear. Here, it is just on the big size. You could find better mounted men if you were looking for them!"

"Which I am not," said she with a smile. "Could we come back to the gift?"

He grumbled and shook his head. She could be quite insistent, couldn't she?

"When I stopped being a monk student I was more or less expelled from the monastery. And being a stranger in a strange land I had very few choices as to what to do for a living. I lasted a few weeks on my money and then, one night I was attacked."

She frowned and he saw worry crouch in her eyes.

"They were sixteen. They lasted twelve seconds. And then the police arrived and arrested me. I could have killed them all even if they were more than thirty but it would have made me an outlaw. So I followed them to the Palace of the Provincial Governor." Once more he chuckled. "It soon was clear that he had himself hired the thugs and had me arrested. Just to have a way to force me into his service. I could have killed him but I would not have survived a week with a reward on my head. So I accepted his offer and I became his hired killer..."

He snorted.

"Thanks to my skills I became very rich and very famous with the Son of Heaven. He would have been one of the most influential people of the Empire had he not been murdered by one of his wives jealous of his affinity for young men. The day he died I made myself scarce and went out of the Empire. I knew I had a few days before the news would come out and since I wouldn't have survived if I had remained there it was the best choice..."

She frowned at him.

"You fled without your gift?"

"Indeed, I fled with nothing but my weapons and all the jewels I could carry. And at that time they were two..."

"Two?"

"Two gifts! The governor, satisfied of my achievements had made me another gift three years after the first. He offered me the sister of my first concubine..."

She looked at him and her eyes became small slits.

"Ohhh that's where you have found your fascination with sisters..."

He looked to heaven.

"There is no such thing as a fascination with sisters. Must I remind you that it was Elizabeth who came and jumped into my bed?"

"First it was my bed and she didn't jump into your bed but jumped you while in bed... It's quite different, isn't it?"

"Nothing but technicalities, _mon amour_! She came to me and it was only a prank..."

She pulled him to her side and looked into his eyes.

"I'm discovering that I'm hugely jealous, _monsieur mon époux_! And I'd like you to stop thinking about sharing your bed with more than one Bennet sister..."

He sighed.

"I never really had such a prospect," confessed he. "I wouldn't have protested if she had accepted my offer but never did I believe that she would be so easy to convince. As I discover the Bennet sisters, I realize that they are of a mind and of a will and loyal to the death..."

She snorted and granted him his pardon with a passionate kiss.

"You have your way with words, monsieur d'Arcy, that, I must confess! And since you have also your way with me, I'll accept your excuse and forgive you your tasteless prank of Sunday morning!"

He gave her to understand that he was very happy to be forgiven.

Soon she forgot that they were in the middle of an argument and they went back to what they did best while together.

_______________

Next morning she was more than happy to feel him at her side.

She snuggled lasciviously against him and he soon got the message.

A long period after, she purred her satisfaction in his ears.

"You're not up early today?"

He shook his head.

"No, the Scots want to speak without me. They are not sure what to do... They are afraid of me..."

_How could they not be_, thought Jane. _You're the most impressive man I ever saw_.

He sighed while letting his fingers plays with her luscious golden hair.

"I love your hair, _mon amour_. It's as if gold and sun rays had begotten them. So solid and so fragile, so beautiful and so luminous... I could spend hours with my fingers playing with it..."

She smiled.

Lizzy had told her that Fitzwilliam had quite the same fascination with her sister's hair.

And she could feel that he really took great pleasure in his exploration of it.

"You're welcome to play as long as you want, dear. I'm not a stranger to the feeling. I must confess that Lizzy and I could spend hours brushing it. It was quite a pleasant feeling..."

She felt his smile increasing.

"And don't you dare make a prank about it. Lizzy and I we are very close and nothing else."

"I can only swear that nothing of the sort has even crossed my mind..."

She turned and looked him in the eyes and she saw the sparkles dancing in them.

"Liar," whispered she. "I can feel your thoughts and they turn around those sisters of yours..."

He signed and kissed her for a better measure.

"I can't erase my past, _mon amour_. I had sisters as concubines and they stayed with me for ten and seven years. But I didn't select them. My master chose to give them to me. I must confess that when he gave them to me I was quite happy and soon so were t_hey_..."

She looked at him.

"Why would they be happy?"

"They were close when little girls and they were all that was left of their family. They were quite satisfied to be together even if the price for it was to be concubines to a foreign devil..."

"Foreign devil? Is that what they called you?"

"Everybody called me that behind my back. They were the only ones who dared say it to my face. But their eyes were smiling when they were using it to remind me that I was the freak not them..."

She looked at the canopy of the bed.

"Ten and seven years? How many children have you abandoned in China?"

"Not one..." answered he. "They never got pregnant. They had a potion they bought at a local brothel that gave them that freedom."

"A potion? And it was efficient?"

"I made love with them twice a day for ten and seven years and never had they the need to stop a pregnancy. I would have known if it had been the case..."

"What was in that potion?"

He turned his head to look at her.

"Only whores and concubines use such potions. And only because their children would be killed after their births. Married women don't need it..."

She couldn't help but snort loudly.

"It would be bliss for poor married women to stop having pregnancy after pregnancy. No longer risking death in child bed would be worth more than you could imagine. And each new mouth to feed brings those families nearer to the brink of economic struggle. To be able to stop the curse of maternity would be a blessing..."

He stood up.

"The curse of maternity? What do you mean? You don't want to be mother?"

Never had she seen so much despair in a man's eyes. She was immediately at his side taking him in her arms.

"Don't be silly! Of course I want to be a mother. And more: I want to bear our children. But after five or six of them I'll perhaps ask for a respite." She tried to lessen the tension with a bout of humor. "As you have seen too many daughters can be stressful to the point of robbing a mother of her wits..."

She saw the anguish disappear but the fear was still there.

She took his face in her hands and looked him in the eyes.

"I long to be a mother, Geoffrey. I really do. There's nothing I wish more since I married you."

She decided that even if it was too soon to be sure, he needed the news she was harboring since the day before. She was sure that she was already with child. She couldn't say how she could be so adamant but there was no longer a doubt in her mind.

"And, even if nobody could, at this very moment, confirm my suspicions, I'm sure that our stunt in the grove has gifted me with the most pleasurable treasure a woman in love can desire."

She smiled at him.

"I fear that –even if I wished it– I no longer have a choice in that very matter, dear. It seems that the Gardiner strain of women is as fecund as rumored."

It was his time to take her in his arms and she felt tears falling on her back.

How could such a powerful –_and fearsome_– man have so much frailty in him?

"It was never my intention to use said potion, dear. I was just imagining a world where women could chose to bear a child when they wished it, not when nature –_or God_– decided for them. A world where we could have the same freedom as men. A world where we women would have one less burden to bear."

She pushed him back to be able to see his eyes.

"I swear it, it was never my intention not to have children." She smiled. "I promised it a thousand times to Lizzy when she was in the mood to see herself end as a spinster. I would bear all the children we both needed to be happy." She felt her own tears run down her cheeks. "And as you proclaimed, it's our family tradition to honor our word..."

That got through and she felt his tension ease.

"I won't lose you," stammered he. "Your dying in child bed would kill me surer than a bullet."

She shook her head.

"We Gardiner/Bennet women don't have child bed deaths!" smiled she. "There's not one story of one of us leaving a poor little orphan behind us. We take that particular obligation very seriously! Not to mention that we d'Arcys have, without a doubt, the means to hire the best doctors and nurses aplenty."

There was an end to her sentence she refused to utter aloud.

_Poor farmers have not these possibilities and poor farmers' wives die more than necessary while giving birth_...

She would come back to this problem at another time.

There would be moments more favorable.

For now she had a shaken husband to nurture and to heal.

And she knew exactly what to do...

_____________________________


	4. Pemberley Day Admittances

**Chapter four: Pemberley Day Admittances**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Wednesday the nineteenth August. Late morning.**

**_**

* * *

"Why China?"

"To be as far away from my father as possible..."

He hadn't thought a second before answering. He knew it was the real reason. He knew he wanted her to know the truth.

He could have lied as he usually did. He could have spoken of his great grandfather's diary. But not to her. Her, he owed only the truth.

She looked at him and smiled at his frown.

His long dead father was still a problem for mighty Geoffroy d'Arcy.

She hoped that kind of problem would find a solution the day his son looked him in the eyes.

She prayed to God it would be so easy but she had seen how he had reacted when she had given him to think that she wanted no children. He wanted children, that was certain.

He was even eager to be a father but she knew that this eagerness would not be enough to build a healthy relationship with his son.

She took his hand and pulled him toward her.

They looked into each other's eyes.

"You're not him, Geoffrey. You're yourself and you'll have your own very special relationship with your sons. Nothing will ever make me believe that you would be able to mistreat one of them..."

His face was soon covered by a smile.

"Am I so easy to read that my deepest fears can be seen so freely by my wife?"

She nuzzled herself into his arms.

"I don't know if it's because I'm your wife that I see so deeply into your soul, but you must know that your soul has a window on your forehead. It's the frown there that gives you away. When you think of him, immediately an ugly frown appears on your brow. And all the anguish of your youth is back in your eyes."

He sighed.

"Why do you love me? I wonder each day anew..."

"I have already answered that very question more than once. And each time I have found a new and better reason."

He looked at her and she was happy to see that the frown was gone and that his eyes were happily sparkling.

"What's today's reason?"

She brushed his lips with hers and closed her eyes.

"Let me think! What about: 'You're the man I was created for and it's only with you at my side that I'll be able to be my real self...'"

She winked at him.

"How could I not love the man who did that to me?"

He purred his satisfaction but his voice was full of doubts.

"That would mean there's something out there that has a plan for us..."

"Of course there is! Call Him God or whatever you want but don't doubt that He is there and that He has plans for all of us..."

He sighed once more.

"I'm not so sure, _mon amour_. I have seen more sorrow than happiness and more wickedness than beauty. If he exists, he is the most cold-hearted bastard you can imagine."

She shook her head. She had discussed at great lengths with her father about Him. Mr. Bennet was like Geoffrey, sad and hopeless. But he had never been able to convince her that He was not as she saw Him, benevolent and loving.

"That's only one part of His doing. He gives Man the liberty to do as he wants. It's not his fault that Man makes bad choices. His choices are of Beauty and Love." She pointed to the roses he had brought. "Look at them. They are beautiful and they smell heavenly. There's beauty everywhere on this earth, you can't deny. It's just we human beings who destroy beauty to give way to horror. Look at the tiniest flower. It is beauty incarnate and it is there for our hearts to be filled..."

He kissed her.

"You're too special to be of that ugly piece of dirt one calls earth. You're an angel who, one day, decided to come to us and show us the truth of beauty..."

"I'm no angel," countered she. "I'm a woman who just tries not to forget all the beauties of the world. I know that there are other facets but I refuse to let that ugliness overwhelm me. There's beauty in everything and everyone."

She cradled against him.

"Look at you! The instant I looked at you I behels only the most handsome man I ever saw and not, like everybody else, the soulless invader. And since then, when you're with me, each passing day you're more handsome..."

"How could I not be? Your make me smile and, when I'm with you, I forget what I am and what I've done to be here. Forgetting one's crimes helps me mightily to relax and to be happy..."

And while he was speaking of being relaxed she could feel the tension evaporating from him.

He was in a difficult mood this night.

He had spend long hours with the Scottish envoys and it had been late in the night when he had finally joined her.

She had been immediately awake and they had easily found each other.

But even now after having loved each other he was not really relaxed.

"What is bothering you, dear. You're not really with me."

He sighed.

"Sorry, but I'm probably still caught up in the negotiation. I made my offer this evening and they were rather surprised. For the time being they are suspecting something foul... They've asked for a respite tomorrow. I won't have to spend my whole day with them. We'll eat together but nothing else."

"So we'll be able to sleep late?"

"Not as late as I would love but nobody will bother us before ten o'clock..."

She sighed. It was better than nothing. She would take what fate accepted to share with her.

"And what can I do to make you forget these negotiations for a few hours?"

He kissed and cuddled her.

"You've already done what you could. I fear I was rather surprised by their reaction. I would have thought that they would have been happy to learn that I had no intention of invading them..."

Jane could very well understand why they would not be happy.

Nobody liked to have to make dubious decisions. And accepting Geoffrey's offer could be seen as treason.

"That's because they wish they could be somewhere other than here at Pemberley discussing with you the end of the United Kingdom. I'm sure most of the Scots will welcome their new independence with pleasure, but those who have signed the death warrant of the old Regime could very well, some day, be regarded as traitors. It's the difference between a death penalty and an execution. All agree with the condemnation but most are unwilling to do the killing themselves..."

She looked at the canopy of the bed.

"They are probably cursing you just now. Nobody wants to be seen as the one who could have saved the Kingdom but who didn't..."

He looked at her.

"They could still refuse..."

"And be responsible for your troops invading their land? Never! They just cannot refuse and they know it perfectly well. But they also know that whatever they do now, there will be a part of their followers who will condemn them for it; if only to get a political advantage over them. And nobody likes being pushed into that sort of dilemma..."

She shook her head.

"They could very well lose everything they have if the majority of the Scots feel against splitting from the United Kingdom and they decide in favor of it."

She glanced at him.

"How much time have you given them to make their decision?

"They have a few days..."

She nodded.

"Not enough to ask at home what could be the general mood. They'll have to take their risks without knowing if it is welcome or not. Politicians hate that sort of bargain..."

He looked at her with a frowning brow.

"When in heaven did I marry such a shrewd politician?"

She smiled at him.

"The day you married me, dear."

She crouched to him and kissed him.

His words had been spoken in wonder not in shock. He was not upset, he was just amazed. Clearly it astounded him but he saw no reason to condemn her for it.

"I know most people –men should I say, but not only– believe that the prettier the lady the dumber she must be. I have understood that little scheme very early in my life. At the same time I knew that Papa would never be an astute manager of our income. He was always buying too many books and newspapers and he was always giving too much money to Mama to buy dresses and ribbons for us. So it was quite clear that we, the Bennet daughters, would never have enough money to attract eligible men. And since it was clear to me that it would fall on my shoulders to bear the future of the whole family I took great care to have the look future suitors would prefer. It was Lizzy's and Mary's role –with the innate risk to stay a spinster because of it– to get us the literature we needed to understand what was going on in the world."

She smiled at the amazed look her husband gave her. Indeed there was much more to the Bennet sisters than even their aunts –_Aunt Gardiner excluded_– could fathom.

"So the truth is that I have always been an astute reader of all the newspapers Papa was receiving. I never did it in front of anybody but Lizzy and Mary, but I did it nevertheless. And we spent long hours discussing between us the way of the world..."

She sighed. How she had longed to be able to go to Cambridge or Oxford. But as a woman there was only one role she could have played in these notoriously luxurious cities and _that_ she would never have been able to do.

"When you have nothing to do with your time but 'womanly' chores and with four other daughters at home able to cover for your leave, believe me, you'll find time to read books and newspapers..."

Her smile became impish.

"And Papa, even if he knew we read them, never acknowledged it. He gave us the newspapers in order to sell the paper and give it to charities. Which we always did... After sufficient weeks' worth to have enough to sell at a time... As for the books he lent Lizzy he was never upset when they came back after two or three weeks!" She shook her head. "I'm sure he must have known. He had often seen Lizzy reading her own books in less than a week. But he never complained about the time she needed to read his..."

She smiled.

"How strange that the simple fact of speaking of something gives you new insights..."

He loved those little dimples she wore when frowning. He could do nothing but embrace her and kiss her everywhere his lips could reach.

She basked in his attention and did nothing to hinder him.

After a few minutes of this treatment she felt a tingle awaken in her belly and she joined him.

_

* * *

He was looking at her smiling face and he couldn't help but being fiercely proprietary. He knew she wouldn't like it but he could do nothing but bask in the feeling that this gorgeous creature was his. He couldn't fathom why but she was his, his, his...

"You're eating me alive, dear... One could believe that after so much tasting you should be overfed with that wife of yours..."

He shook his head.

"Never ever... it is not possible..."

She stopped him immediately, knowing what was coming next. A part of her mind was amazed at how good she was becoming at reading him.

"Stop it! I love you because you are the only man –_Charles not included_– who ever looked at me with more than lust in his eyes..."

"Was there lust?"

She smiled.

"Indeed there was, husband dear. There is always when a man looks at me. Even now there it is in your eyes... But there was also admiration and curiosity and something else I did not recognize but that gave me the shivers."

He looked her in the eyes.

"It was love, I'm sure..."

"Not then," answered she. "There's love now in your eyes. Then something else covered every other emotion. I could not miss that one even if I wished to. If love was in your eyes at that time it was entirely overshadowed by that other emotion. And when I think back I do believe it was a craving for hope..." She inhaled lengthily. "You were looking at me as if I could save you. As if I was the only hope you'd ever find. I couldn't resist being so essential to you. Looking in your eyes I saw my own purpose as never before..."

He nodded.

He hadn't acknowledged it until that very moment but he was indeed searching desperately for something or someone to save what little sanity was still there in him. Someone he could trust, someone he could believe in.

Someone who could find in herself the strength to forget what he represented to, finally, see what he was.

He took her in his arms and they just enjoyed the feeling of being where you belong.

_

* * *

They were walking arm in arm towards Pemberley when a part of what she had said to him came back to him.

"You said that you and Lizzy and Mary were reading your father's newspapers? Does it mean that even Mary's unbearable attitude is a show?"

She sighed anew.

"Not entirely... She's quite serious in her religious beliefs. And often as obnoxious as she seems, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have a fine mind of her own. She's probably the most knowledgeable Bennet sister. I must confess for Lizzy and me, religious literature bores us to death. Mary, on the other hand, is able to go through the most inedible piece of religious goo with a determination I'm unable to understand. And what's even more extraordinary, she's, afterwards, able to synthesize it in a very understandable manner."

She looked at her husband.

"You know that her dream would have been to be a priest? I do believe that would there be a Christian denomination that would accept a woman predicator, she would convert immediately..."

He laughed at the prospect.

Yes, indeed, he could very well see _Mother_ Mary predicating before a flock of wide eyed followers.

"Sorry to be a portent of bad news but there is no such thing as an egalitarian Christian denomination I know of. From what I can judge, priestly matters are well in men's hands."

She frowned at him.

"You could ask your new friend the Archbishop of Canterbury. I'm sure he couldn't refuse one of your requests."

He agreed vehemently.

"I could and he couldn't but that would place your sister in a very bad and vulnerable spot. I fear none of our societies is ready to confide priestly matters into a woman's hands..."

"She knows a good deal in all matters religious. I'm even sure that she could shut up cousin Collins in less than a minute would he accept to listen to her."

"Which he won't," said d'Arcy. "The only thing he listens to are his own words. I'm not even sure he's able to understand what other people have to say..."

She growled.

"And what grates me is that he'll be the next master of Longbourn..."

He took great pains not to look at her while answering her last remark.

"No, he won't..." said he while trying desperately not to smile.

She stopped and forced him to look at her.

"How so?"

"Did I forget to give you that little piece of information?"

She nodded.

"So it would seem, husband dear. What have you done to put cousin Collins out of his entail?"

He looked at her with all the innocence he cold muster.

"I did nothing. It was the King of England who did..."

She felt that he was at the brink of laughter and, to prevent all unfair behavior on his part, she stepped back and crossed her arms.

"What happened exactly?"

She pointed an accusing finger at him. "And don't dare to approach before having confessed all your schemes on that matter..."

He showed his bare and open hands as a sign of his innocence.

"It's just a simple law problem, dear. The very hour your King signed the Peace Treaty all territories of Great Britain became part of the French Republic and all the French Republican Laws were applied to every part of these new territories, Longbourn included. And since in the Republican Civil Code there's no such thing as an entail, your father was free to sell it without referring to your cousin or, if he had chosen to keep it, his inheritance would have gone in equal parts to his heirs..."

Her eyes became two small slits.

"If he had chosen to keep it?"

He was very proud to have such an intelligent wife. She was everything he had dreamed of for many years.

"Yes, but he did prefer to sell it..."

"To whom?" asked she even if the sparkles in his eyes told her everything.

"To me..." said he with the hint of a smile. "Longbourn was my gift to you in our marriage contract. You should have read it before signing. You're now the legal owner of Longbourn estate. Should I die, it's yours only..."

His smile grew, finally.

"There's only one down side to my gift: your parents, if they wish to, have the right to stay at Longbourn until they die. I could do no..."

He had no other choice but to stop talking and kiss her back.

_


	5. Pemberley Bennet Business

The same day...

************

**Chapter five: ****Pemberley Bennet Business**

****************

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Wednesday the nineteenth August. **

****************

"Wife, we have a decision to make..."

Mrs. Bennet looked up from her work glanced at her husband.

"And what decision would that be?"

Edward Bennet took a deep breath and sat opposite to his wife.

"We have married two daughters, dear and four days have passed since then. Wouldn't it be prudent for us to move home?"

Nobody but he and d'Arcy knew about the deal they struck about Longbourn. And it wasn't really a deal. More of a very kind gesture. But it was alright with Edward Bennet not to talk about it. Nobody needed to know that Longbourn was no longer his. The estate would stay in the family and Jane's children would, when in England, have a secured home.

And he and his wife would, until their death, have the security of their own old familiar home.

And the price had been, as everything with his eldest son, princely. Each of his remaining daughters would get a fifteen-thousand pound dowry. Much more than he would have been able to secure if he had been the best estate manager in all of Great Britain.

Which clearly he was not!

A smile crossed his lips.

There was really no justice in this world. Here he was, selfish, lazy, careless and sloppy Edward Bennet finally rich enough to grant each of his remaining daughters a dowry big enough to satisfy the most greedy of fortune hunters and all this without having to lose any of those little bad habits he considered so important.

Mrs. Bennet shook her head finally.

"Why should we? Fitzwilliam seems quite happy to have us here –_when he finds enough time to see us_– and Geoffrey doesn't make comments at all."

"That's quite right, dear. But we are still only guests. I wonder if we should not move before we get the first of these comments..."

She looked at him and shook her head while making a face.

"Well let's await the first of those, dear. I'm in no hurry to leave Pemberley. I know Geoffrey will, at some moment in the future, have to go back to London and I was hoping that we would either travel with them or follow them after a few days."

She glanced at the door before going on, a genuine look of concern on her face.

"And I'm not sure it would be a good idea to let our sons alone here... I know they are both well bred gentlemen but there is something hotblooded in the Darcy family that makes me wonder if they would not try and kill each other if we're not here to look after them."

_That's an argument_, thought Edward Bennet. _That's a very strong argument_...

"Perhaps you are right, but please, if you get an opportunity ask Lizzy if we are not trespassing here. I could ask our Darcy son but I'm sure he will never admit to our intrusion. I'm sure Lizzy will be much more frank in that matter."

She smiled at him.

"I ask her every morning, dear. And until now I'm sure her reassurance at our welcome had been genuine. You know our Lizzy, I'm sure the moment we grate on her nerves she'll let us know..."

Edward Bennet was not so sure.

Elizabeth Bennet would, without a doubt, have done exactly that.

Elizabeth Darcy on the other hand was quite another matter.

Would she be willing to reveal being upset with her own family in front of the Pemberley staff? He doubted it very much. She would grit her teeth and make a serene face, not throw them out under the watchful eyes of everybody.

He sighed and nodded.

"Iaccept your arguments, dear. Perhaps it is not yet time for us to leave."

*******************

"We need a strategy..."

Kitty and Mary first looked at each other and then at their younger sister.

They were not very often together since Kitty liked to be with Georgiana and Mary loved to roam the shelves of Pemberley's library. But today Lydia had arranged everything in order to get the opportunity to speak with her two unmarried sisters.

"What are you speaking of?" asked Mary.

"I'm speaking of our future, silly gooses, that's what I'm doing. With us being sisters to mighty Geoffroy d'Arcy, our life has just changed for the better!"

Kitty could only shake her head.

"Because he married Jane doesn't change a thing about what we are and where we come from! We're still poor country ladies without a dowry worth a damn..."

Lydia shot her an ugly look.

"Don't use such words, Kitty. You cannot go on believing this nonsense. You must admit that where we come from and what we are no longer has the slightest importance compared with the fact that we are sisters to the Master of all England."

"It could not last..." warned Mary.

"Even more of a reason to act _while_ it lasts!" countered Lydia. "We are, at this precise moment, in a unique situation and we have to use that situation to get the most out of it. And to do so we need a strategy."

Mary pouted and slammed her book on the table.

"What do you need more? Colonel Mayfayr is all over you each time he is in the same room as you and General Fitzwilliam is looking at Kitty as if the only reason he was not courting her was his official position...no more strategy needed. If you maneuver cleverly you could be married women in less than a season..."

"I'm not interested in the General," whined Kitty. "He is too old and it is insulting to be courted only because he could neither court Jane nor Lizzy!"

"Beware your language, Kitty!" said Lydia. "Even if you don't believe it, right now we are the nearest to _royalty_ in England! If we play our cards right we could get whatever or whoever we crave..."

Kitty made a face and shook her head.

"I'm not interested in being _royalty_, Lydia! I want the same as Jane and Lizzy, I want to marry a man I love!"

Lydia looked at the heavens.

"Kitty you're as pretty as Lizzy and you could have any man you want, French or English."

Kitty looked at Mary to get her help. They had their problems in the past but being with Georgiana had changed quite a few of her opinions about a number of subjects.

Mary being one of them.

"Stop with that nonsense, Lydia," Mary promptly came to her sister's aid. "We are _royalty_ only in your unflinching imagination. No well bred rich man would look at us even for a minute. And for well bred poor men we are not rich enough. We are, as in the past, Bennets and Bennets are in no way _royalty_..."

Lydia sighed. These silly gooses didn't deserve what she was doing for them but then they were family and if one thing seemed sacred to d'Arcy it was family. So it would be sacred for her too!

"Have any of you read Jane's marriage contract?"

Both her sisters looked at her with wide-eyed amazement.

"Yes, I did!" countered Lydia. "And? It was on Papa's desk. I had just to open it and read it. And so I did..."

"You shouldn't have..." said Mary.

"What's in it?" asked Kitty.

With a knowing smile Lydia stood up and came closer.

Whispering was always a good strategy to get any body's attention.

"Longbourn is now Jane's Estate. D'Arcy bought it from Papa for forty-five thousand pounds and the family will be allowed to live there as long as either Papa or Mama are still alive."

Mary frowned.

"But that means they are cheating Cousin Collins and Charlotte!"

"No cheating there," answered Lydia. "In French law there's no such thing as an entail and without it Papa had every right to sell it to d'Arcy or to any one the moment he felt the inclination. And I'm sure he didn't hesitate a second! He would have sold it for one tenth of the sum he received, I'm sure!"

She looked smugly at her sisters.

"Cousin Collins had just lost every right to Longbourn and Papa has enough money to provide us with dowries we could only dream of a month ago..."

Mary and Kitty looked at each other.

Could it be that...

"Since," Lydia continued, "d'Arcy lets Longbourn to Papa and Mama for a pound a year, I'm quite sure that Papa will not hesitate to provide us with quite a handsome sum. I wouldn't be surprised if fifteen-thousand pounds each would come our way..."

Once more Mary and Kitty looked at each other.

Fifteen thousand pounds! There were greater dowries, but only the richest of the richest could provide more then ten thousand pounds dowry to more than one daughter.

"Ha, ha" triumphed Lydia. "I have your attention now! Rich heiresses like us must have a strategy, don't you agree?"

**********************

"Yes?"

As Mistress of Pemberley it has been Lizzy who answered the knock. It could have been, legally, Jane, since the Estate was officially Geoffrey's but Jane had no intention of playing foolish games with her sister. She was a welcomed guest and there was no reason in the world to have forced her to be disagreeable to her sister.

The door was opened and Lydia's head popped through the opening.

"Can we come in?"

"We?" asked Lizzy while the door was opened by Lydia to reveal the three younger Bennet sisters.

"We…," said Mary. "We would like to speak with you..." She looked at Jane and Lizzy. "Were we at Longbourn we would have called for a sisters' meeting, but with you married we weren't sure if it is still appropriate."

Lizzy and Jane shared a glance. "We are still sisters," said Jane. "No reason why we should stop meeting when together."

"Come in, then," agreed Lizzy "and find yourselves seats..."

A few moments later the sisters formed a circle and to Jane's satisfaction they sat, as usual for such formal meetings, in age order with herself between Lydia and Lizzy.

Lizzy raised an eyebrow toward Lydia who had shown during the 'installation' phase that she was in command.

Lydia gulped and inhaled one last time.

"We have a problem..."

Jane and Lizzy looked at each other.

"We?" asked Lizzy for the second time in a few minutes.

"We the Bennets?" inquired Jane.

"We the Bennet sisters?" added Lizzy.

"We the unmarried Bennet sisters," answered Mary following, as often when together, the age scale.

"Oh," said Lizzy and Jane in the same breath.

"And what is the problem of said unmarried Bennet sisters?" asked Jane who, as the eldest of the Bennet sisters, had always presided over these not infrequent meetings.

Mary looked at Lydia who indicated that she could proceed.

"We have learned about Longbourn and the price Monsieur d'Arcy had paid for its acquisition..."

Jane and Lizzy's eyes met briefly. They had already spoken about the new situation and how generous dowries –_and d'Arcy's importance_– would change their sisters' fates.

"And we believe that Papa will offer each of us a more-than-comfortable dowry."

"And it changes everything for us," Lydia added quickly. "I say we need a strategy..."

"A strategy?" asked Jane and Lizzy almost together.

Lydia looked at them with a frown.

"As in a military strategy," explained she. "We need to plan, to prepare, to decide and to strike when ready... without hesitation or remorse..."

"Oh..." said the eldest Bennets in what was beginning to resemble a chorus.

Lizzy hid a smile behind her hand.

What wondrous changes could happen in only a few days. There was silly and foolish Lydia who never had thought about a coming event which was not tomorrow's ball who wanted to launch a strategy...

"Strike for what," Jane prompted.

"Husbands!" said the three youngest Bennets. Lydia with enthusiasm, Mary with a frown and Kitty with what looked very much like unhappiness.

"Oh..." chorused their eldest's.

Jane looked at Lizzy before answering. They had speculated about marriage strategies for their sisters, but never would they have thought that said sisters would enter the fray with such determination.

"I can fully understand," said she while looking from one sister to the other. "That finding a husband is paramount in your mind in a period where you are witnessing mine and Lizzy's great satisfaction in being wives, but shouldn't you be a little more cautious and take your time before deciding that marriage is the most desirable fate for a woman? You're young, especially you Lydia, you don't need to hurry anything, you have time..."

"It's not about hurrying," cut in Lydia. "It's about doing all that is necessary to get the best eligible husbands..."

She looked at Kitty.

"We would all like to have husbands like yours. Rich, handsome, famous and respected in addition to being madly in love with us... But we are not foolish enough to think that it will also happen to us. You're probably going to be the only Bennets who will have everything..."

"I don't agree!" interrupted Kitty. "That's only because you want our husbands to be at the same social level as Fitzwilliam and Geoffrey. We don't all need to be paired with counts and dukes..."

"Why should we settle for less?" countered Lydia. "I have no intention of being the poor relative who's accepted with reluctance at the Countesse's table..."

"Jane would never be so snobbish," cried Kitty. "You know that very well. Neither would Lizzy. It's just that you discovered that you could be ambitious and now nothing will be able to stop you in your quest for grandeur..."

"Ladies, please!" said Jane in her best Mama imitation. That had always brought smiles to everyone's faces and, once more, it changed the mood in the circle. "I do understand Lydia's concern but I don't share her fears. You will be able to find very interesting husbands; I have no fear on that point. But will they all be rich, handsome, noble and dote on you? That's another problem. I believe you should choose what you think is important in your future husband and define your strategy to get it."

She looked at her sisters.

"Don't insist on everything, that would not be reasonable and would condemn you to failure. But you insist on two or three of the advantages you seek and stick to them..."

Lydia sighed.

"But if we do that, there will be no strategy. We will all have different goals..."

Jane shook her head.

"There you're wrong, Lydia. We are a team, remember? And in that team we have always used the qualities of each team member in order to get for each member of the team what she needed at that precise moment. Why not going on doing the same? You're not of the same ages; you don't need to marry at the same time, do you?"

They all shook her heads.

"Well, than we could design a strategy based on your different needs."

She looked Mary in the eyes.

"Mary what would be your perfect husband?"

Mary blushed before answering which was really not her habit. Finally when all eyes where on her, she sighed.

"Fitzwilliam?"

That brought a laugh to everyone in the room, Mary included.

"Mary," cried Lizzy, "You're not in love with my husband, are you?"

Mary made a face.

"No, of course not... But you asked what would be my perfect husband. And I believe it would be a man with the same qualities as Fitzwilliam. If he had a little religious knowledge it would not be to his disadvantage."

"Well," giggled Lydia, "A scholarly Fitzwilliam. Let's speak about being too ambitious..."

"Lydia," scolded Jane. "I asked and she answered truthfully. No reason to mock her... Even," added she while looking at Mary, "If yours is, indeed an ambitious goal. Now having said that, what would be paramount for you, Mary and what would you accept to abandon?"

Mary took a few seconds to think.

"Most important: he would have to be kind and loving. Then smart and educated. Than handsome and finally rich or powerful..."

Jane looked at her sisters.

"That's an approach. What we must look for Mary is a kind, educated and intelligent man. That's the minimum she needs. Rich and/or handsome would not spoil the deal but she could live without those attributes."

She looked Mary in the eyes.

"Do we agree dear?"

"Entirely," nodded Mary.

Jane looked at Kitty who blushed immediately bright red.

"No need to ask her," said Lydia. "She already has made up her mind..."

"You have, Kitty?" asked Jane. "And could we know the name of said gentleman?"

Kitty took a deep breath.

"You won't laugh or mock me, will you?"

"Of course not, dear! Why should we?"

"Because it's Charles Bingley..."

"Oh..." said Jane who would never had guessed.

"And since when did you feel for thus for Charles?" asked Lizzy feeling that her sister was in no mood to follow up.

"I don't know," said Kitty.

"Yes she does," interrupted Lydia. "She fell in love at the Meryton assembly..."

"Oh," said Jane losing even more color. "I'm so sorry..."

"No reason to be," answered Kitty while shooting an ugly look at her younger sister. "It was you he was drawn to; you had nothing to do with his choice. And, as usual, I knew I could not compete against you... So I just went on doing silly things with Lydia..."

That last pique was for Lydia who did her best not to show that she had been hit.

"Well," Jane said finally. "That could be a difficult endeavor. I'm not sure he will agree to become my brother after having had the hope to become my husband. He could..."

"He could come to love Kitty for what she is," interrupted Mary. "No reason to be defeatists. If we want him to be our brother, I see no reason why, if we all work in that direction," and saying this she looked at Lydia, "We should not succeed!"

"She's right," added Lizzy while holding her eldest sister's hand. Of course she would feel guilty to be responsible for Kitty's unhappiness. Even is she had nothing to do with Kitty's and Charles' choices... "If Kitty wants Charles which is a sweet and smart choice we'll all work in that direction."

She looked at Lydia.

"And you, I suppose you want him to be smart, handsome, rich, titled and madly in love?"

Lydia who was feeling a little guilty for having upset Jane, shrugged.

"I suppose but I do know that everything will be difficult. If I have to make a choice, I will go for titled, handsome and rich. The rest I could do without..."

"But we exclude nothing," insisted Lizzy. "We have a lot of means and lots of advantages to do what we have to do..." She looked at Lydia. "You seem to be the most motivated. Would you agree to supervise that project?"

"Of course, I agree..." said Lydia with a smile.

"And if you need anything," added Jane who was slowly recovering a little of her spleen, "Don't hesitate to ask. You are our beloved sisters and even married away, we are still members of the same team!"

She looked at all her sisters and could see that they were, save perhaps Lydia, in better moods than at the beginning.

"Can we close the meeting?" asked Jane. They all nodded.

"Well, is there anything else you'd like to know?"

"Yes," said Lydia with sparkling eyes. "It is said that there are secret Chinese techniques to satisfy wives... Have you obtained any insight?"

Jane blushed crimson which ignited Lydia's resolution!

****************

**Comments?**


	6. Pemberley ambitions

Well, I'm sorry it took so long to recover from a little technical accident (computer crashed with all my files) but here I am with the next chapter.

__________________________

The same day...

__________________________

**Chapter six: ****Pemberley ambitions**

**_________________  
**

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Wednesday the nineteenth August. Late at night.**

**_____________________________________________________  
**

"_Il est comment_?" [1]

As usual in the secrecy of their common bedroom she was speaking French. He liked it so and it gave her the opportunity to use the French "_tu_" to be with him on a more intimate level. She had tried to use Shakespeare's "thou" and "thine" but each time had lost herself in a fit of giggling she couldn't suppress.

So she decided that, since, out of respect for his extended family, he was using English everywhere else to communicate, in their bedroom she would speak with him in the language of his origins.

Even if his dreams were often uttered in Chinese.

D'Arcy looked at his wife with a frown.

"_Qui est ce 'Il'_?"

She looked back and smiled at the rawness of her question. Indeed, how could he guess?

"I was thinking about Napoleon, dear. And it was more a verbally expressed thought than a conscious question. Sorry if..."

He stopped her with a finger on her lips and a smile.

"No need to apologize! I should have guessed, there was such a finality in that 'he' that you could only be speaking of _one other man_!"

The undertone she felt brought a frown on her brow and stopped the sarcastic remark that she was going to utter. After all she knew that he could be an arrogant prick. Now she knew that it could happen even with her. She made a note to speak about that little problem at some later moment and went back to what was really important just now.

"What are your relations?"

He shook his head and placed the whisper of a kiss on her lips. She was more and more adept at reading him. Nobody else could have sensed his inner shiver. And he was becoming quite good at reading her. He had noticed the little movement of her nose when he answered. She hadn't liked his little fit of haughtiness. He would have to deal with that trait of his character a little later. For now he knew exactly how to make her smile again.

"First things first, dear! As for your first question: he is small, he is puny and he is vindictive..."

As hoped that brought a smile and a laugh to his wife's countenance.

He loved it when she laughed. Her eyes began immediately shining with that inner light he would not have thought possible. He knew he could spend his days inventing ways to make her laugh. Just to get the fantastic result of her shining eyes...

She couldn't help but giggle at his words.

It was less the content of the message that made her laugh than the way he had said it.

He had just defined the most powerful man of the century in three dismissive adjectives! That was very much like him. Deep within titled and powerful Geoffrey d'Arcy, a disrespectful anarchist was lurking...

After a few minutes laughter spent in his welcoming arms she looked up to let a trace of impatience cover her features.

Like everybody else she loved to hear a "_bon mot_" but her question was a serious one and now she was sending the message that she would welcome a serious answer.

He got her message immediately.

But he chose to stay, a few seconds more, on the same disrespectful path.

"And he has the best memory I ever witnessed. This is a very bad idea for a man as vindictive as he!"

She sensed that he was doing it on purpose and slipped easily into the role he wanted her to play.

"I'm serious, monsieur d'Arcy," said she with an exaggerated frown. "And I'm in no mood for your little games!"

His eyes' sparkles increased tenfold and in the next second he was sitting astride her.

"Ohhh, so you're in no mood for my little games?"

"As I said, monsieur d'Arcy, it was a serious question that deserves a serious answer..."

He came nearer and his lips began to roam her neck.

"You won't succeed," said she while basking under his kisses. "There's a time for love and than there's a time for...mhhhh... Serious... Discussions..."

His last assault got her out of her role and her arms came around his shoulders.

He smiled and increased his kisses. He loved it when they shared sensual little games. And seeing her face he was quite sure that she loved it too...

_______________________

"He's working twenty hours a day and he's able to make astounding synthesis on every matter he is studying. He's able to enthrall everybody with his judgments and analysis."

Jane turned her head toward him.

"Even you?"

"Especially me," answered he. "I know how it was difficult for me to acquire that peculiar skill. And I really believe it's innate with him..."

He sighed.

"He's a very dangerous man, Jane and it would be very foolish to have him as an enemy."

"Having enemies has never been one of my prospects..."

"One has not always a choice..."

"Is he your enemy?"

Once more he sighed.

"Yes and no..." said he after a long pause. "Yes because every ambitious man is his enemy. He trusts nobody and ambitious men make him nervous. And I never hid that I had ambitious plans."

He pulled her to his side and looked into her eyes. He knew she would see the truth in them and he wanted her to be sure of what he was going to say.

"On the other hand he and I, we are allies. His plans and mine don't interfere and they are even, for most of their duration, complementary."

"Most of?"

He nodded.

"At one time it will be necessary to make a choice between his plans and mine. Just because they are going to cost a lot of money and military resources. And even eighteenth century France does not have the means to conquer Europe and the rest of the world at the same time..."

She lifted herself up and looked at him while resting her head on her elbow.

"He wants Europe and you want the world?" She smiled at him. "Indeed you are ambitious men. What if Europe and the world don't agree?"

He smiled back.

"The whole of Europe doesn't agree, that's for sure! But with the United Kingdom out of the Game for some time there are real opportunities for him. There's a part of Europe suffering under the rule of the Turks who would welcome his interference. Even the German and Italian Principalities would welcome a just ruler if he gives them the unity they dream of without culling their freedom."

He shook his head.

"But Napoleon is a despot in the making. He has shown it in Italy and in Egypt. He lusts too much for power and riches. A very bad mix in a ruler. Had I not been there with him he would have alienated the Arabs and the Kopts just because of his inextinguishable greed. And you must believe me that _that_ would have been a major accomplishment. They all hated the Turks' guts and the only thing to get them on our side was to give them a just ruling concept. I did it for him and now these Lands are at peace and producing more money for the Republic than the armies necessary to defend the Turkish border coast. And the natives love him because he gave them what the Turks always refused: the liberty to believe what they wanted and the right to share the ruling of their provinces. And now, since he has other things on his mind, he will forget them and this part of the world will forever revere the French as liberators and not conquerors." He laughed. "And believe me or not, but the Egyptian and Syrian Deputies in the Consulate's ruling Assemblies are Napoleon's staunchest supporters."

He sighed.

"Without me, I'm sure he won't be able to reduce his appetites. He will crush the conquered countries under a heavy load of taxes and that will push all the Europeans to unite against him. And that will be his end because the only way to secure the Revolution would have been to win the trust of the people. And, if a despot can be loved and admired, he will never be trusted..."

She taunted him.

"Well the European plan is clearly a bad one. What about my husband's world plan?"

He gave her his most arrogant smile.

"That one is a good one," said he. "Because the only things I lusted for I already have..."

She acknowledged the compliment with a smile and a slight bow of her head but did not stop there.

"So you are not a despot in the making. Some would say that's because you're already one! Poor Great Britain lives under your iron rule..."

She saw a doubt covering the sparkles in his eyes. She gave him immediately the reassurance he needed.

"Don't be afraid, I would still be madly in love with you even if you were a despot. But I would also be a very sad wife..."

He pulled her against him.

"Then I have no other choice but to never become a despot, don't you agree?"

"I do," said she. "But as our British History has shown the maturation of a despot is a very sudden affair and even the most honorable man can fall into the pit of his own ambition."

He agreed but knew what to say to reassure her.

"If you are alluding to Cromwell please take into account that I'm not a religious fanatic and that I'm not buying into the delusion that God's will is expressed in my decisions and whims..."

He kissed her and soon she answered his propositions.

But soon she came back to her preoccupations.

"What are your plans, husband?"

"To secure what's beautiful in the Revolution and to wipe out what's ugly."

_Indeed a nice answer_, thought Jane. But also a very vague one.

"I know," smiled he, "It's a rather dim answer but it was necessary to give that precision in advance or you wouldn't have understood the gist of my plan."

He exhaled lengthily.

"I've studied the history of the world and I've studied how societies work. And it was soon apparent to me that, contrary to Rousseau's ideas, men are not benevolent creatures who are polluted by society but that society is always polluted by the malevolence each human being carries within him. So it is necessary to build a society that is able to control the malevolence of the human beast by reducing the amount of what each individual can possess. Be it power or wealth."

She looked at him with surprise in her eyes.

He accepted her unsaid rebuke.

"Yes, I know that those words coming from a man who trusts titles, riches and power are ridiculous, but the perfect world does not yet exist and to survive in our imperfect contemporary one I need exactly what I've got. I would not survive a minute without the power and the wealth that is now mine. But I'm very conscious that all these riches and titles will, some day, have to go back into the hands of the wise and ethical rulers I dream to bring to power..."

"Power pollutes..."

"No doubt there, dear. I saw it with my own eyes in a dozen countries and wealth is just as dangerous... That's why rulers need to be in charge only temporarily and only for once. Every other system will bring corruption and abuse. Democracy is a fine ruling method if one takes great care to reduce the possibility for the ruler to stay in power. _And_ if everybody has a say in who is going to rule. That's the main reason why I'm a fervent supporter of the abolitionist cause. Slavery is a canker on mankind and it must be wiped out as soon as possible."

Jane nodded her approval. She had never been active in the abolitionist cause, but the simple idea that a human being could be reduced to the property of another had always repelled her. Hence her discreet activism in the cause of female equality.

A cause she now could probably further in French-dominated Great Britain. Especially under Geoffrey's rule.

_But not yet_...

_Let's go back to a safer topic_.

"I hope you're right and that you'll succeed, but it will be difficult to convince most of the people that ruling is possible without a King."

"There could still be a King but he must not be the real ruler. If he could be the protector of the Constitution it would even be a good thing. But I doubt that a ruling family would accept to renounce real power..."

"But another one who is not yet ruling could accept, couldn't they?"

He looked at her with a question in his eyes.

She shook her head.

"No I'm not promoting anybody. It's just that it would be possible to convince a not ruling family to accept to create a new dynasty with fewer powers than before."

He breathed heavily.

"We're not yet at distributing thrones to deserving families, dear. There's still a long way to travel before my goal can even be confessed..."

"And those goals will never be shared by Napoleon, you're sure?"

"I am! He wants even more power than Kings. He has more resources and means that any King of the past. And, as I know him, he will use them ruthlessly. There's nothing he won't do to stay in power..."

"You don't like him, do you?"

"This is not about liking or not. This is about power and having the means to get more. At one moment in the future I'll be in his way to grabbing more power. And I already know how he will react when it happens. He will try to have me eliminated. That's just his way of thinking. He won't appear himself, it's not how he works, he will use stray revolutionaries and madmen but he will strike. And I fear that I won't just stay there just looking at him pointing a gun at me. At that moment we'll have to decide which plan is worth concluding..."

This time Jane's worrying increased.

"You speak about it as if it was a simple altercation. You're speaking life and death, here. You could die..."

"We all die, dear. And I'll die before you that's one certain point of my life! And I'm even surer of it because I'll do everything in my power to be sure that you'll survive to become the doting grandmother I'm sure you'll be."

He took her into his arms and inhaled her perfume.

"I don't want to scare you, dear, but there is a great probability that I won't die of old age..."

"Don't..."

He silenced her with a kiss.

"Let me speak, please. I'm not saying this to scare you. I'm saying it because I owe you the truth. You must prepare yourself for that eventuality. It will not happen soon, but it will, sooner or later, happen! If only because I'm twenty years your elder. As I confessed it earlier, it was never in my plans to marry. It was never in my plans to abandon a family. But I did marry and it did nothing to eliminate my current or future enemies. It was egoistical of me, but I cannot deny the love I feel. And once I accepted that love I could not live without you at my side. But being a married man did nothing to thin the herd of my enemies. Of course, I'll do everything I can to guarantee your safety and your future, but you must accept that, some day, I'll leave you behind me and that you'll have to acknowledge the truth of a future without me."

"We already spoke of it..."

He nodded.

"I know but now there's a difference; you are no longer alone with me and so I must be even more honest."

Jane crouched on him and looked him in the eyes.

"I'll accept your death the very day you die but until then I will only accept your lively presence at my side. Is that clear?"

He nodded and smiled.

"It's very clear, _mon amour_, and please believe me when I say that I'm very proud of your courage."

**__________________________**

[1] Jane's question is "_How is he_?" and d'Arcy answer is "_Who is this 'he'_?"


	7. Pemberley family growth

_

**Chapter seven: Pemberley family growth**

_

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Thursday the twentieth August. **

_

"Frowning?"

The frown immediately disappeared and Elizabeth's smile became a laugh.

"Sorry to intrude in your difficult thoughts, but I prefer my husband smiling..."

He nodded, turned around and kissed her.

"So do I, dear, but, sometimes, you have no choice."

"What's worrying you? Your brother again?"

He shook his head but his eyes belied his gesture. Of course Geoffrey's presence at Pemberley and those Scottish and Welsh envoys were worrying him.

He had hoped that they would refuse and quit, but they had stayed even after his _brother_ made his propositions. Had they wanted to quit they would already be gone.

So they stayed and that, in Darcy's mind, could only mean that they would accept.

But even if it hurt him that was not the reason for his frown.

"It's something else, dear. Something I'm very reluctant to accept."

"More reluctant that being French?"

He nodded and smiled at her attempt at humor.

"Yes, because it's a very personal matter and it is very difficult for me to even contemplate the possibility. Were you not by my side, I don't know how I would have reacted. In some ways it would have shattered me had I not been strengthened by your presence at my side."  
Elizabeth went to him and slipped her arms around him.

"A personal matter? Something to do with your family? Georgiana?"

"No, not directly! It has to do with our father..." He sighed. "Or to be more precise it has to do with what our father did..."

This time it was her turn to frown.

She had no real knowledge of Darcy's father but from what Mrs. Reynolds had told her, Fitzwilliam and his father were very close.

Being close to her husband she could feel that he was not only worried but also upset, if not angry...

They were not living together for a very long time but she had already understood that he could be very secretive if he felt that it was an intimate matter.

She was curious but she was also very much aware that he would speak when he felt ready.

She wouldn't ask questions.

He needed her and that was enough to make her very happy.

They hugged each other for a very long time and finally he sighed heavily.

"You're my wife," whispered he. "You need to know. It's important even if it's upsetting..."

He paced back and looked her in the eyes.

"There's an open letter on my table. Look at it and please give me your opinion afterwards."

Elizabeth nodded, kissed him and went to the table.

The letter was yellowish and looked like a very ancient piece of paper.

She took it and began to read.

_Dear Charlotte,_

_I'm sorry if I disturb you in your present condition but I need your advice._

_Yesterday evening the wife of our faithful steward, George Wickham, died. I had every confidence in her and in the final minutes before dying she made a confession which shattered everything I believed until then. Not willing to part this world with her secret she confessed that her son, George Junior was not the son of her husband, but the son of mine._

_You can imagine how these words touched me. For a moment anger overwhelmed me and had I not been so amazed I would probably have said very unkind words to the dying woman in front of me. But when I came out of the first throngs of my surprise I saw that she was seconds from her death. I saw that anguish in her eyes and recognized that that secret had marred her life these last years. I was very surprised to feel all my anger at her disappear to see a woman who needed me. I could do nothing but whisper her my forgiveness and I'm very proud to be able to say that she parted with a smile on her lips._

_My smile was long gone and not only because we just lost a faithful retainer. Too faithful perhaps._

_My husband, as you perhaps know, is in London and for now he has escaped the wrath I felt for him after understanding what he had done. _

_Now a whole day has passed and, the first moments of anger behind me, I'm wondering how I should react or if I should react at all. George Junior was conceived at a difficult time for my husband and me. I just had my second –as you know very difficult– miscarriage and he would no more touch me in fear of being responsible for my death._

_These months were very difficult and we had our share of scenes and disputes. He came back to me only a year later and now I do believe I understand why. With George Wickham junior born he knew that he had an heir if I should die in child bed. Having done his duty he could come back to me... For months he would be his old amiable and charming self but he still would refuse to share my bed... _

_I longed for him and one night, having lost all patience, I went to his bedchamber and slipped into our bed. He was half asleep and he did what he had always done when I came to him. It was a marvelous night between us and it repaired everything that stood in the way of our happiness. What's more, I'm sure Fitzwilliam was conceived that night. _

_From that night on we never ceased to share a bed._

_Sorry for the blurred words, Charlotte, but my tears are back. And those are tears of happiness not sorrow. We are so happy, Charlotte. Even with my failing health he's at my side and I can read in his eyes that I'm in his thoughts night and day._

_What am I to do, Charlotte? I know I'm going to die soon. There's no chance my poor body will support unscathed through this next pregnancy but it is the will of God and I am proud to be able to give to Pemberley a second heir._

_Even if it means my dying._

_I never told him what your doctor told me. It would have shattered him and he would have refused to touch me anew. And I so long for his love and his kisses... _

_So I'm going to die a few months earlier than predicted. So I'm going to deprive my poor Fitzwilliam of a mother a few months earlier..._

_And even if those few months I'd have had with Reginald and my beloved son will for ever be missed, it is my duty to give to Pemberley that second child. I hoped it would be a second boy but I feel it's a girl. _

_Not that I'll begrudge her anything, Charlotte. How could I? But she'll be so alone with both my poor shy men. _

_And, I must confess that the way your doctor described to me my last months has, egotistically, played a role in my choice to bear another child. I hope God will forgive me my cowardice._

_But I'm wandering! I write to get your advice, Charlotte._

_What should I do? _

_Toss the bastard out of the house? I must confess that I'm very reluctant to even envision such a thing. He's my husband's and a friend's son. He deserves better than being tossed out by a jealous mistress._

_Should I push my husband to acknowledge him? It would be the more honorable thing to do, but I must confess that I don't like the boy as much as I should a son of Reginald. I don't know what the problem is but I don't see in him all those noble emotions that had drawn me to my shy husband. _

_I hate to write those things when speaking of a seven years old boy but I feel falsehood and jealousy in his soul and I fear that, would he know the truth, he would try something against Fitzwilliam to get Pemberley. And that, as you will understand, I can't risk!_

_Should we just go on as today, giving him everything he deserves because of his birth without ever acknowledging his birthright?_

_I really don't know what to do, Charlotte. Please give me an advice I could follow without losing my soul..._

_Your friend Anne Darcy_

Elizabeth had to whisk a few tears out of her eyes. She had never had the opportunity to study a twenty-year old letter and she had never had the opportunity to look into the soul of a dead woman.

What she had seen was worth it.

"Who's this Charlotte?"

"Sophia Charlotte of Mecklenburg Strelitz, the Queen Consort."

Elizabeth looked up amazed.

"It seems, " continued Fitzwilliam, "that she and my mother were very good friends..."

"It seems..." agreed Elizabeth.

She put the letter back on the table and joined her husband. She could very well understand why he was upset.

He had just learned that the man he hated most in the world was his half brother and that his mother had known that she was going to die because of Georgiana's impending birth.

She hugged her Fitzwilliam with all the strength she could muster and she soon felt him relax.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," growled he. "I really don't know. Knowing he is my brother has intensified my hatred for him tenfold. Were he here, I'd kill him on the spot. To imagine what would have happened if he and Georgiana would have eloped..." His voice became very icy. "I'm going to look for him and than I'll strangle him. Very slowly in order to have the pleasure of seeing his life force waning and disappearing..."

She paced back to be able to look into his eyes.

"No, you won't! That's not you speaking, Fitzwilliam. You've read your mother's letter. She was a good and loving woman who refused to sentence the mother or the son. She was able to forgive and you will do the same..."

"I can't! Not after what he did to Georgiana..."

For a moment she regretted not being strong enough to shake her husband out of his homicidal feelings.

"Think of it differently! You can't reproach a brother and a sister who felt love for each other. The feeling they had for each other would have been normal if they had known their true relation. So they could only guess at the 'why' and they just made the mistake of seeing it as romantic love..."

She saw that he wasn't convinced.

Perhaps because she was not really convinced either...

"He's a gambler and a womanizer, Elizabeth. He has no morals and no honor. He's a predator who lives on other people's charity... My mother should have followed her majesty's advice..."

Elizabeth looked at her husband with surprise in her eyes.

"You've found the Queen Consort's answer?"

Fitzwilliam nodded and pointed at a book on his working table.

"It's marked at the right page. Look at it. It's a shame we got the husband and the son as Kings. She would have been much better."

With such words, nothing could have stopped Elizabeth from reading the Queen's answer.

She went to the table and took the book.

It had been made out of letters and letters...

"When my father died I paid a couple of librarians to collect all the correspondence of the family in order to put them chronologically in books. At that time I didn't find in me the strength to read them but I wanted to be able to protect them from decay and to be able to find each and every one of the letters when I needed them. And it came in handy when I searched for the Queen's answer..."

Elizabeth nodded and opened the book at the marked page.

_Dear Anne_

_As you know I have all confidence in your intuitions so before giving you my real advice I'll say what, in my opinion, is the only thing to do: get rid of him! I don't know, pay a few of your tenants and let them drown him in your lovely lake! If he is as false and jealous as you fear, you will do your children a favor! _

_Don't look at me so shocked. I said that it's not my real advice but I fear it would be the cleverest thing to do._

_The next best thing would probably be to send him away with a financial allotment to secure his future. Find some people in America who would raise him in exchange for a payment and send him away as soon as possible._

_Last and I fear, knowing you and your husband, it's what you are going to do, let him stay and treat him as a favored cousin. _

_I pray my doctors' judgments are as false with you as they are with my husband's reason but knowing your frailty I fear very much that you will, as they said, soon be gone._

_I know we'll see each other again in that happy corner of Paradise where crazy mothers like us look after all those little beings who died before having sinned._

_I love you dearly._

_Your Sophia Charlotte. _

She smiled at the last words. How strange that a Queen Consort could express her love for another human being. How very... Human...

She closed the book and looked at Fitzwilliam.

"Too late for most of her advice..."

"Not sure, I could ignore this letter and finally call him out and kill him! The Queen Consort's opinion was a good one! They would have done us a favor..."

Elizabeth could not let her husband travel that ugly path. And she knew exactly how to guide him back to himself.

"You could use another method. I'm sure you could ask Geoffrey to organize a disappearance. He'll do it without even hesitating. It seems that family is important to him..."

Geoffrey's name had the intended effect. He frowned.

"What?" And then his eyes which had lost most of their brightness came back to their old self.

"Ohhh, I see! You're trying to lure me into your little trap..."

He took her into his arms.

"But I can't stand the idea that he is my brother..."

"Who, Wickham or d'Arcy?"

This time she got a smile.

"You know exactly who I meant. I don't like d'Arcy but I don't despise him. I could even admire him if he had chosen another country to invade..."

Quite satisfied she had him on another thought path she smiled at him.

"Our fault that he came..."

"How so?"

"The Royal Navy sank his preferred Grandfather, the third Admiral d'Arcy. Without the help or I should say the protection of his Grandfather, Geoffrey was the bully boy of his father and brother. He had no other choice but to flee and here in England Oxford and Cambridge refused to let him study because he was a month late. He never surmounted the loss of his Grandfather and he considered our Universities' refusal as a personal slight. Jane believes he's here to take revenge for both..."

"That's a rather petty enterprise, don't you..."

Fitzwilliam stopped mid sentence and looked his wife in the eyes.

"All right, I got the message. Revenge is a petty emotion..."

"I'm glad we agree, dear. Now that you've surmounted that first petty emotion, could we look for another answer to that discovery?"

"We could forget the truth and destroy the Queen's consort's letter?"

"We could but we won't!"

"We won't?"

She stood her ground.

"No, we won't! I like to believe that all the falsehood and all the pettiness is on Wickham's side of the family. Am I wrong?"

He sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not sure! I really feel this petty desire to smother him!"

She took his hands in hers and looked up putting in her eyes everything she felt for him.

"Well, so it will be even more honorable to finally overcome that desire and to recognize your blood kinship with Wickham!"

"Nobody knows but us..."

"And that is important, dear. We are not going to forget what we know, you know it as well as I and I refuse to let pettiness destroy our life!"

He sighed another time.

"What would you propose?"

"Recognize the kinship and accept officially Wickham in the family. If you want to do it in the best legal and safest way, ask Geoffrey for his technical advice! He knows the new laws much better than we and I'm quite certain he'll be interested with this new member of the Darcy Clan. After all, Wickham is also his brother now, it would be normal that he give a hand in order to find the final solution."

For Fitzwilliam, that last part was even more unpalatable than recognizing Wickham. But Elizabeth was right d'Arcy was now part of the family and his opinion would have to be taken into account.

_

"I could have him disappear," said Geoffrey after having read both letters.

Elizabeth looked at Jane who just shook her head lightly. She read him well enough now to know that he was only playing his usual bad guy role.

"I thought of it but my wife believes we should act honorably..."

d'Arcy looked at Elizabeth and shook his head.

"That man has no honor at all, Elizabeth. For money he'll do anything!"

"We are not speaking of his honor, we are speaking of ours!" cut in Elizabeth. "He could be the worst ruffian of all Europe that doesn't change anything about his kinship to us. He will perhaps, one day, hang for his crimes, but it will be because of what he's done not because we are unable to accept him as a brother..."

d'Arcy looked at Fitzwilliam and for a few seconds there was a bond between them. The bond of two men very much in love with their wives and probably no longer able to resist them.

"I've a few estates in Southern France along the Dordogne river. We could provide him with enough land and income to get him safely out of the way..."

"He's a gambler..." said Jane. "He'll gamble away his estates in no time..."

"We could decide that he gets only the income and not the property," answered Geoffrey. "The law permits such things."

"But these are your estates," said Fitzwilliam. "And he's my..."

"He's our brother now and I have enough estates to adopt a few more brothers every now and then." He let a little smile appear. "Let's just choose more honorable ones in the future. This one is not really what I would have chosen as uncle for my children..."

"There's always a black sheep in every family," smiled Jane. "And I do believe that, prior to now, in the d'Arcy family that would have been you, dear..."

He approved but silently...


	8. Pemberley Mothers

**Chapter eight: Pemberley mothers**

**_**

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Saturday the twenty first August. Evening.**

**_**

"How was your mother?"

He opened an eye and a smile came to his lips.

"Are you never tired?"

She smiled back and her blue eyes sparkled in the darkness of their bedroom.

"Only when my curiosity lets me rest..."

He sighed and came nearer lying his head on her chest. He loved to hear her heart beating. It was so reassuring to have a proof of her being there.

His hair glided over her nipples and soon she was very aware of his proximity. She forced herself to remain calm. Her mind needed fuel and her body had just been rewarded with the best, he could wait a little longer.

"She was a very discreet woman..." said he. "She should have been perfect at the side of a man with a mind and culture. She loved books and paintings and I even found a book of her own poetry. It was quite good. Without my father she could have been a real..." He searched for words. "A real philosopher. But he smothered her spirit and soon there was only an empty shell left..."

Jane placed a kiss on his head and hugged him.

"Why did she marry him..."

"Women have seldom a real choice. She had none. My father bought her with blackmail. He wanted my grandfather's estate. And my father was a ruthless rascal with no scruples. My maternal grandfather would have lost his title and his estate to the King's justice if he had refused. So he had no choice but to accept her marriage to him. He chose himself and sacrificed his daughter. He was a coward and a fool..."

She passed her hands around him and hugged him the best she could.

Each time she got him to speak of his family she was very aware of the sheltered and happy youth her imperfect but loving parents had given her. Even her mother's hysterics were nothing compared to the hell her husband went through in his youth.

Perspective, everything's in perspective.

Her mother had been quite surprised, a few days earlier, with her eldest's renewed showing of affection.

Of course she believed it was Geoffrey's doing –which was right with Jane– and their relations had became even better than before.

Jane shook her head and looked at her husband's face.

He was smiling and she knew it was because of her. Not because of happy family memories.

His family memories were –to say the least– difficult ones and she had soon understood that he needed to let his ghosts out in the open. It was not easy for him but she was sure that she was the only human being he would ever trust with the truth.

So she would ask as long at she felt it necessary.

Besides it gave her an understanding of what he really was and she needed that.

"He had no choice, remember? He would have lost everything and his daughter would have been without anything..."

"She had her own estate, coming from her mother. She would have lived decently and she would have found another husband. She was pretty and intelligent. She would have been safe. But selling her out gave that old bastard the illusion that he would be safe! So he condemned her to a life of misery and fear. All my life I have seen her scared. All my life I have reproached myself for not being able to protect her. I wish I could have killed my Grandfather before my father did it..."

She pinched him. He grumbled a protest.

"Stop immediately regretting not being able to kill people others have killed for you. I do believe you killed too many people as it is, no reason regretting those killed by others..."

"But he..."

"No buts! He died killed by your father and so his cowardice got him what he deserved. And your father got what he deserved by the hands of the Revolutionaries. Everything is as it should have been and that blood is not on your hand!"

She kissed him tenderly.

"I know you no longer believe in God but _I_ do and I'm quite happy you failed to kill a few of the people you wanted to! All those people you would have liked killing were not worth a tiny part of your soul!"

He shook his head.

"There's no such thing as a soul! It's all inventions to make poor gullible people accept their human destiny while believing that somewhere something will reward them for their patience!"

She bit him savagely.

He howled in protest but did not move.

"Do you call me gullible?"

He smiled up at her.

"No, you did... Didn't you just confess that you believe in God? Is there the slightest proof God exists you can show me?"

She bent over to be able to whisper in his ear.

"Look into a mirror and you'll get ample proof..."

He turned and placed himself in order to be able to look at her face.

"No, the proof is when I look at you and I see your soul smiling at me through your eyes..."

She rewarded him with a real lover's kiss.

After a very long pause she came back to her topic.

"You're lucky I can feel when you're being truthful! One second you play the convinced atheist and the next you pretend seeing my soul in my eyes..."

He winked at her.

"I'm a great liar, mon amour. It's been in the family for generations. Hopefully, our children will be more Bennets than d'Arcys..."

"I quite like the d'Arcys," countered she. "And lying is not innate. It's learned. I'll teach our sons to be gentlemen and Christians..."

"Whatever, mon amour. You'll be there to teach them. I won't..."

She stopped him immediately.

"Don't go down that road again. You'll be at my side and you'll be the best example they could dream of. You'll see!"

He nodded.

"Indeed we'll see..."

His smile disappeared a second and was soon back.

"Amazing how you get me to speak. Never before have I ever spoken to anybody about my beliefs."

She smiled back and looked him in the eyes.

"That's because your soul, seeing my soul, knows it can speak openly. We are soul mates, didn't you know?"

He sighed.

"I can't even begin to understand what these words could mean. But if it is how you want to call the link between us, it's alright with me. I'll even pray to God to thank him for that gift..."

"That's a beginning, dear. You perhaps see yourself as a ruthless executioner but you are neither a patricide nor a fratricide. And even if it's a small blessing it's nevertheless a blessing I thank God having spared you. "

She kissed the top of his head and he went back to his further position his ear on her right breast.

"And let it be known that I want to know the person your mother was, not the huge numbers of people you would have liked to kill and never got the occasion to deal with..."

He opened a lazy eye and she could feel his smile on her breast.

"And what would happen if I forget your orders?"

"I'd bite you!"

"Ow! That's a threat!" said he with a grin.

"Indeed it is..." said she. "I've already shown you how my wrath could be overwhelming..."

"It was only because I chose not to defend myself that you got such an easy victory!"

"And? Would you defend yourself this time?"

He sighed.

"I fear you're right, I would not..."

"So my threats are real, _monsieur mon époux_! You're warned!"

"I'll accept the threat then and tell you! But let it be known that it is under duress!"

*****************

"Her name was Ludivine. She was a very slight and delicate young woman. She had dark brown hair and great brown eyes. If I think of her I always see these big scared eyes scanning her surroundings hoping to see him come in time..."

He exhaled loudly.

"She rarely spoke to me because when we were together he always managed to surprise us. And he would laugh at me and my habit to hide in my mother's skirts and shout at her about the bad influence she had on me, the weakling of the family..."

He shook his head.

"I know she loved me even if I was _his_ son, but she would not dare to be seen with me. I would get a thrashing and she... She, he would take with him and then nobody would see her for days... I do believe that she didn't want us to see her injuries."

He turned around and looked dreamily at the canopy of their bed.

"She and Isabelle were very close. They were also well loved by the staff. It's because of that love that they managed to escape to England. The staff covered for them and then helped them to board a British fishing boat."

A tiny smile came to his lips.

"I found those who helped them and I rewarded them."

He looked at her with a frown on his brow.

"I never forget a slight but I always reward a kind gesture..."

She smiled at him and stroked his cheek.

"You're a kind man, Geoffrey. I never had a doubt. Life was not kind to you and..."

"Don't say that," said he, interrupting her. "Life was very kind to me the day I decided to live my own life following my own rules. I have power, riches and fame..." He smiled at her and his hand stroked her belly. "And today, I even have a family soon to increase even more. I'm a lucky man, Jane, I know it and, for the first time in decades, I revel in that knowledge..."

He sighed.

"And it changed my life, _mon amour_. I'm no longer interested in power, riches and fame. Each time I'm with you everything else loses all appeal. Had I encountered you three years ago everything would have been different. I would just be a lucky and doting husband!"

She kissed him once more.

"I really hope so, monsieur d'Arcy! Because I must confess that I'm a lucky wife who has everything she ever dreamed of and more!"

He pulled her toward him.

"Well that's a statement which must be rewarded…"

His kisses became more passionate and soon they were both following another path.

*****************************

"Why is it that I never get to end my stories…"

She was lying on his chest and he was playing with her hair.

She smiled.

"I do believe it can be explained by the fact that we are naked, sharing the same bed and, for now, still quite interested in each other…"

"Still? Does it mean that at some future period of our marriage you anticipate a lessening of said interest?"

She kissed his chest and roamed the wild fur that covered it.

"I fear that, soon, I'll be visibly with child! And that will probably lessen your fascination with me…"

"You do believe so?"

"It usually happens. I saw it very often with married couples…"

"It will be my first child, dear. And what's more it will be the first time in my life I'll witness the pregnancy of a wife of mine! I'm quite sure that my fascination will not lessen but rather increase."

She sighed.

"But while visibly pregnant I fear you'll stop touching me the way you did a few minutes earlier."

He hugged her and kissed her with a sincere –if controlled– passion.

"I'll do what you need to be happy, my love. You'll be the one to have a say in that matter. As long as you agree with my ministrations…"

"Ministrations?"

He nodded forcefully.

"Ministrations! As long as you agree you'll have my complete and interested support!"

She kissed him back.

"Thank you my love… I must admit that I feared…"

"You've nothing to fear, _mon amour_. You're the most precious thing I ever came to have in my grasp and I won't take the least risk to bother or upset you."

He placed his hand on her belly.

"This is our child but as long as you bear it under your heart it's yours to decide what is good for him."

"Him? You should remember that I come from a family where girls are numerous."

He agreed and his eyes were sparkling at the humor he felt in her tone.

"There were boys in said line, dear. Look at your father and your uncle. I'm sure there is a little d'Arcy in that beloved womb of yours…"

She made a face.

"And if it should be a girl, what would happen?"

"Then I'll just have to make another try to convince you to bear me an heir…"

She sniffed.

"If I bear you only girls you would have no other choice than to proclaim that girls, as boys, have the right to inherit their father's names, estates and fortune…"

He laughed.

"I'll do it even if you give me sons. You know, I'm a greedy man and I'm very interested in securing your father's estate for us. Since you are the eldest of the Bennet daughters Longbourn will be yours if I proclaim the right laws. And I'm damn sure that's what I'm going to do right now!"

He shook his head.

"I refuse to look at a future where Collins cousins would be master of estates where pretty and loved girls have spent their youth. I'd like very much that our children had more luck and opportunities than you…"

She turned and looked him into the eyes.

"What about Louisiana and the French Empire?"

He sighed.

"As I said I fear the conqueror in me is fading to make place for a foolish doting husband and future father." He stopped her next remark with a hand gesture.

"I remember my speech when I was courting you but now that I have you and hold you in my arms I just want the world to revolve around us… I didn't know it but it seems that I'm tired of being a conqueror and a soldier. There was an unknown wish to settle in my heart that your presence at my side has triggered." He smiled at her.

"Don't be too full of hope; I'm not a man to change horses in the middle of a ford. I've begun a task and I'll end it. But then I'm also a man who has a very real talent for getting what he wants. And just now I want to stop soldiering and begin husbanding…"

Mischief lit his eyes.

"And I have a few ideas about what must be done in order to get me what I really want…"

She opened her mouth but his fingers stopped the incoming question.

"Don't ask. I'm a man who revels in secrets and machinations. I don't want you to be forced to live in that world. Let's just say that I'll do what I can to be at your side as much as possible and, as soon as possible, to stay there for good…"

She looked at him and smiled at his belief.

She knew in her heart that he was telling the truth but she knew also that the conqueror part was not fading as much as he believed it. It would come back, she knew it! But the doting husband would have his place. And she smiled at a future where she would be mistress of Longbourn and the mother of plenty of children.

One thing was already clear: _she_ would never let hysterics dominate her life!

She made a fast prayer to be granted that last wish!

She inhaled deeply.

Time to bring him back to his story!

"We could consider our last activity as a minor interruption, couldn't we?"

"Not yet tired?"

She shook her head.

"Being loved by you gives me new strength always …"

"I agree," said he. "And it's quite amazing!"

He cradled her in his arms and looked at the canopy of their bed.

"Where were we…"


	9. Pemberley Beliefs

**Chapter nine: Pemberley beliefs**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday the twenty second August. Evening.**

* * *

"Thank you very much…"

He turned and looked her in the eyes.

"It was my pleasure. For nothing in the world would I have missed our first week's celebration… And I liked the parson's sermon. I'm sure it was a direct reaction to your sisters' doing last Sunday. Not that it seemed to give them the least regret about it…"

"No it didn't and yes, so did I, but nevertheless your presence was important. The people need to know that you are a man of Faith…"

"Am I?"

She smiled at him.

"Of course you are! All your attempts to look like a gutless killer can't fool your wife…"

His eyes sparkled.

"It has been only a week, and already you deem yourself an expert in gutless killers?"

"Not in all gutless killers. But in one Geoffrey d'Arcy, yes I deem myself an expert!"

He sighed.

"The Geoffrey who shares a bed with you has nothing to do with the Geoffrey who planned and organized the conquest of these Isles. I'm not myself when I'm with you…"

"I disagree! It's with me that you are yourself. I have the privilege to lie at the side of the doting husband and –soon to be—loving father. These others characters you play, they are only a pretense you show to the world to hide your true self…"

He pulled her to his side.

"Be careful not to be disappointed in your analysis. You could be wrong…"

"I could but I'm sure I'm not! Lizzie agrees with said analysis…"

He chuckled.

"Those are your brilliant specialists? Two women in love discovering the bliss of marital beds?"

"Why not? Being in love doesn't reduce women's intelligence!"

He raised an eyebrow at _that_affirmation.

"And Lizzy's not in love with you and she's always been quite a judge of character, believe me!"

He smiled at her certainty.

"And so you speak about the woman who took eight months to recognize that Fitzwilliam Darcy was a gentleman and a man worthy of her?"

She smirked at his lousy attempts to ridicule her sister.

"That was different: he spurned her… Being spurned _does_reduce a woman's intelligence!"

"Hear, hear! Am I wrong, or am I really just learning the most precious secrets of womanhood?"

She hit him in the belly, hard!

"Stop laughing at me, it's really serious!"

He stopped laughing to bend over while holding his hurting belly.

But his sparkling eyes took all credibility out of his suffering…

"I see that! Where have you lost your sense of humor?"

"I never got one," said she. "In the Bennet family it's Papa and Lizzy who have a sense of humor. I'm the soft, cool, reserved one…"

He crouched over to her and got his forgiveness with a kiss.

"Don't ever say that again," whispered he. "You're perfect and I know you have a sense of humor. How could you not while accepting to live at my side…"

He sighed and kissed her anew.

"But you and that other expert, you are right, I'm a man of Faith. It's just not the same Faith than most people…" He laughed. "Or to be quite right, I should say my Faith is the same as most human beings but not the same as Europeans…"

He looked at her.

"But you must admit I did everything suitably, didn't I? I didn't say a word while we were at the church being married by Pemberley's parson."

"I must admit that you behaved like a gentleman and that you were innocent regarding anything that disturbed the priest."

She laughed at the memory of what Kitty and Lydia had organized.

"The only thing he wanted to know was if you were a Catholic. Had you been a Catholic he would probably have refused to marry us…"

Geoffrey's eyes became very cold.

"Thank God he did accept to marry us. Had he not, he would have regretted his refusal."

Jane felt that the d'Arcy speaking was not the d'Arcy with whom she loved to share her bed. She knew _that_d'Arcy was somewhere within her husband but she had no intention to let him rule again. He had held sway for far too long.

"Nothing happened, dear. He married us and now we are wife and husband and nobody will be able to split us apart…"

Her words had the desired effect and his smile was back.

"No, nobody! The only thing on earth which could convince me to leave you would be the Old Reaver… 'Til death parts us…"

She shook her head.

"He can try but he won't succeed. I'm sure you'll wait for me as I'll wait for you…"

He winked at her.

"How strange that you would choose those words! It is a common belief in Asia that love and hatred will bring people together even after their death…"

"How so?" asked Jane.

"You must know," answered he, "That living a few decades in Asia has altered my vision of the world…"

She put her head on his chest and let her finger play with the hair there.

His fingers were doing the same with the strands of hair covering his shoulders.

"And what's your vision of the world? I heard you from time to time speak of Karma and I believe it is in relation to what you believe but I'm not sure."

"You're right, that's one of the aspects of what I believe," said he while looking into the unknown realms of his memory. "But it's rather mixed up, I fear…"

"Try to explain it to me, dear, but remember I'm only a dumb woman, don't use too complicated words…"

He laughed and kissed her.

"I don't believe women are foolish creatures with no wit, dear. You have no need to play the dumb female."

"I don't play. I just wanted to remind you that we females have no access to higher education. What we learn doesn't need academic words or scientific definitions. We are frail and emotional creatures who would not support the stress of all men's responsibilities…"

He made a face.

"I already agreed to further the cause of female education, dear. No need to convince me anew…"

"Let's call it a reminder, _monsieur mon époux_. As I said it's rather an important part of what I'd like to do while I have the Master of the Isles at my side…"

They shared a surprised look.

Neither of them had ever used these four words but they rang a deep emotional bell in them.

"Funny you used these exact words," said he. "I sometimes refer to myself using them. It's rather amazing since before coming here I always looked at my British campaign as a preliminary strike before going to Louisiana. We were coming in, crushing the Brits and going on…"

He sighed.

"And now, more and more, I look at the rest of the campaign as unimportant. As if what I had to do had been done." He hugged her while covering her face with light kisses.

"It's probably because of you, you lovely enchantress. I just can no longer think about my future without seeing you at my side."

"I'll follow you wherever you go…"

"I know but I know that wherever else we go you won't be absolutely happy. Not as happy as here…"

"You are my home now. Where you go, I'll go."

"No doubt there, but I'm also quite sure that a part of you will stay behind and it's the whole Jane I want to have at my side…"

"There's a part of you who remained in France and there's a part of you who remained in China. It is our lot to leave part of ourselves at those places that were important to us…"

He nodded.

"That's why I'd like to live at your side at Longbourn. There you would be whole forever…"

She shook her head.

"Not really, dear. A part of me would live here with Lizzy and another part would be with each of my sisters. You can't stay intact your whole life, dear. Each time you make a choice you leave a part of your soul at the crossing point…"

He nodded with a sad little smile on his face.

"Which could bring us back to your question about my world vision…"

He inhaled deeply.

"We were discussing Karma if I remember well…" said he while hugging her. "It's difficult to explain as such, best to begin with what we have in common in our beliefs…"

He closed his eyes and relaxed.

"First, I do still believe in an overwhelming mighty God who created everything but I don't believe he looks at us like a jealous patriarch ready to whip us for our failures and mistakes."

He raised his hand and spread two fingers.

"Second, I no longer believe in Paradise or Hell."

He opened his eyes and looked her in the eyes.

"But I'm probably explaining myself badly. I don't believe in the Christian concept of an afterlife place where it is hellish or heavenly. But I believe that there can be hellish or heavenly places. It's just that I know that God gave us the capacity to transform everything we touch –_even this Earth_– in what we wish. Be it a Paradise or its opposite. And all too often mankind chooses to convert the places where it lives into a living Hell." He exhaled lengthily. "But even within these Hells, we, as individuals, are still able to refuse following others to build our own Paradise."

He smiled at her.

"You're my Paradise and I pray God that I'll never be your Hell…"

She smiled back.

"We'll build our Paradise together, dear. 'Until now I've always refused to live in others' Hells, I won't begin with you!"

He hugged her.

"That's the right spirit! Always refuse to be like the others and impose your own rules! And since you're also one of those rare people who see the good in others, you could be a gardener planting and harvesting light. You've done it for me; since I spotted you there's much less darkness in my life and s much more light. You're an…"

She shook her head and placed her finger on his lips.

"Don't say it, I know I'm no Angel, I'm only a very normal woman who happens to be madly in love…"

"That's the secret, dear. But you are more than just a woman in love, you're a loving woman. Now you're in love with me but that new love has not smothered the gift of love you possessed before. You were born a loving woman and you still love all these others beings I have so much difficulty to appreciate."

He shook his head.

"As I said: you have the gift to see the good in everybody. I'm cursed with the burden to see only the darkness and seeing it my only wish is to eradicate it…"

"There's probably darkness in me too…"

This time, he laughed.

"Probably… But compared to all that light that is dazzling me when I'm looking at you, I'm sure nobody will ever be able to spot it. I didn't and I swear I'm the resident expert…"

He sighed and pulled her against him.

"Let's come back to my world vision…"

He conducted a tour of his beliefs and decided to be totally honest with the loving woman who happened to be in love with him. She deserved nothing less.

"Karma cannot be understood if you don't accept the concept of reincarnation. And as most of Asian people I know, I do believe in reincarnation."

She frowned at that statement. She had read a few books about this strange belief and couldn't believe a sane man like her husband could accept such nonsense.

"Don't frown, it's not a gesture you do very easily and it gives you an earnest air I would prefer you never wear."

The frown disappeared and a more usual air of concern took its place.

"You can't be serious, dear. You can't believe that you will come back as a dog or a pig…"

"I don't! And that's not what reincarnation is about. My belief is about becoming a better being! And having become better there will be no more need to reincarnate anew…"

His frown was back, but disappeared as soon as he lifted his eyebrow.

"I don't understand… Becoming a better being is also at the center of Christianity…"

"Indeed, but the great difference dwells in the number of chances you get in order to become better. With the Christian faith you have to do it in one life. In most of Asian ones you'll get as many chances as necessary. You failed this life? I won't say it's not a problem because it is a failure but it's not a definitive one. You'll just have to come back and try again…"

"Then, that's why there's no Hell in your world vision?"

"Yes and no! As I said I believe there is a Hell, but it is not in the afterlife, it is already surrounding us. Look at the way most people live in this world! A good deal of them know only poverty, disease and despair. For them couldn't it be called Hell? And even the rich ones, are they happy? Are they living interesting lives? Some do, most don't! Everybody can create his own little Hell with nothing else than hatred, envy, greed or jealousy… Rich or poor, there's a Hell for every one of us…"

"What's my Hell?"

"That's probably me, _mon amour_! Even if just now you won't believe me, I'm sure it's the truth. I'll do what is in my power to protect you but I'm not sure I'll be able to do it… But I'll do the best I can. I swear…"

She nodded.

"I know that you will do what you can but don't be too harsh with yourself. If, as you said, we create our own little personal Hell, then it's also my responsibility not to help you to create one for us…"

He smiled at her and pressed her against him.

"You could do it, I'm sure…" whispered he. "And I hope that it really will be the case! As for now your sole presence has changed my life. You're my personal Paradise. From now on Hell is a world without my loving wife at my side…"

She smiled at him and crouched on him.

She loved that position stretched out on him and looking into his eyes.

She had even managed to fall asleep while lying on him in such a manner.

His smile showed her that he liked it too!

"Most Asians believe that loved ones or loving couples travel together from incarnation to incarnation. It's God's gift to those who travel that they are always with loved ones during their journey."

He smiled.

"I'm sure that in our last common life we were already a loving couple. I feel as if having you at my side is the most natural thing possible…"

He kissed her.

"Thanks to you for joining me…"

She raised an eyebrow.

"So you believe I decided to join you?"

He nodded.

"I was already here when you chose to come back. Let me believe you chose to be at my side…"

It was her turn to nod.

"If what you say about reincarnation is true, I'm sure it was what I did." She winked at him. "If I already knew you, how could I live without having you at my side?" Her smile grew. "As more proof, please consider that I chose the moment of my birth just to be at a marriageable age for your coming back to the Isles…"

He chuckled.

"I'm not sure the choices can be so precise but I'd love to believe it to be the truth."

"Depends on what happens while we are between incarnations… Are we conscious?"

"Tradition says that we are much more conscious there than here. Here we forget everything in order to be able to learn a new lesson. In the afterlife we are with our Masters to ponder all our actions during our lives…"

"And we know about each other?"

"I can't say for sure! I forgot, remember? But if it's true that you have the possibility to choose to join loved ones you must at least know what happened to them…"

She nodded once more.

"Let's agree that I wanted to join you… That in some different time we were already together. I your wife, and you my husband…"

"Could have been the other way around," whispered he. "Perhaps last time you were the mighty warrior and I the loving wife…"

She laughed.

"I can't imagine you as a loving wife…"

"But I can easily imagine you as a mighty warrior. It's him I saw facing those rascals two weeks ago. You were even holding your staff with the experienced grip of an old samurai. Sometimes we remember without remembering…"

_Yes… Sometimes we remember without remembering_…

It had always been so between Lizzy and she. They had known what the other was feeling, liking or preferring. As if they've already had a lifelong experience between them.

"Is it the same with siblings?"

"Of course it is! I said loved ones. It's also the case with mother and child or father and child. The tradition says we come back to experience new relationships. What better ground for intimate experiences than a family? I learned hatred there. In all the subsequent years, it was never better demonstrated…"

She smiled at that memory.

It always came back to that with him.

His hatred for father and brother would always creep into his life.

Whatever else, it was always there in the background.

But it was only in the background. Everywhere else she would see to it that there would be love!

"Then, it will be my duty to show you that a family is also the best way to experience love! I'll give you sons you'll love and respect and these relationships will go both ways, I swear it!"

He hugged and kissed her.

"I don't doubt it for a second, _mon amour_. You have enough love in you for both of us."

"And I'm going to reveal all the love you are hiding in your heart, dear! With you and me providing fuel, we'll have the happiest family one can imagine." She looked him in the eyes. "Let's build our own private Paradise!"

"If you lead, it could certainly happen…"

"I'll lead then! Just don't let me out of your sight…"

"No chance that that will ever happen…"


	10. Pemberley Satisfactions and Worries

One week fatherly satisfaction...

* * *

**Chapter ten: Pemberley **

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday the twenty second August. Evening.**

* * *

Edward Bennet sighed lengthily, personifying satisfaction at being where he was at this late hour.

He smiled while shutting the book he was reading in the little study Fitzwilliam had provided for his father in law.

What could be better for a father than to have the pleasure to see, day after day, the satisfaction of his beloved daughters with the world as it was?

Alright, for him it was not quite so extraordinary. There was the little problem of being conquered and invaded that would, from time to time, come and spoil his perfect good humor.

But that didn't last long.

He was an old man and it never had been _his_ duty to fight this recent war.

In his time he had fought –_and won, sort of_– the privilege to uphold the Empire and to defend the Crown.

Not, if he agreed to be honest, that the results had been better in the end.

But where he and his pals had lost a few unimportant colonies, this next generation just happened to lose the homeland!

And he could quite understand that losing one's homeland to an enemy who should never have the possibility to land was not a happy memory.

And it was not for the young Fitzwilliams. The one who had most problems was the general since he was one of those who just had lost to the French and –_if one knew how to translate his gesturing_– he was rather upset with the result.

Edward Bennet had spent a part of the afternoon with him and it was quite evident –_posturing and flirting not included_– that the situation was weighing heavily on the young man's shoulders.

But if there was one sure thing, it wasn't weighing on Edward Bennet's shoulders!

For many excellent reasons every other father could easily understand.

He inhaled deeply and stood up before taking hold of the candelabra he had just used to light the pages of the excellent book he had found in Fitzwilliam's library.

He would not let his country's situation mar his utter satisfaction.

A satisfaction born of family successes and old dynastic grudges Major Bennet was holding against the House of Hannover.

But, of that he was persuaded, the most important thing was the happiness of his eldest daughters.

There was not the least doubt that they were happy and satisfied.

And their satisfaction was clearly influencing his youngest daughters.

Even Mary was showing smiles and sparkling eyes.

Thanks to young Georgiana who shared a real love for music with her and who had found ways to show her real fondness for Kitty and the new Miss Bennet.

Even Lydia was well behaved as never before.

He knew that at the bottom of her heart that savage and unruly strand still existed but now it was smothered by a real obsession to get the most out of her new standing.

Lydia was showing a real mercenary strand that worried old Mr. Bennet. But he could not reproach her. Having a mercenary strand was much more accepted by the British _ton_ than her former silliness…

He probably preferred his "old" Lydia but society at large was sure to understand this "new" Lydia much better.

Especially with a fifteen-thousand pound dowry to support her new ambitions.

* * *

He finally came to his room's door and was rather satisfied that Mrs. Bennet was not yet sleeping.

Mrs. Reynolds had provided them a unique room and he was now, quite satisfied to be able to share it with his wife.

"You're still up, dear? I hope you weren't waiting on me…"

"Yes I was," answered Mrs. Bennet. "I believe we need to talk and I was reticent to disturb you in your new study…"

"Feel free to come each time you need," answered he. "I'm no longer hiding; I'm just enjoying a book or two. Nothing you couldn't disturb with important family matters…"

She smiled at him and her eyes sparkled in quite the same way her daughter's eyes sparkled when she spoke of her French conqueror.

"I'll do it in the future, dear. Or we could perhaps see each other for a morning walk in the park. It has been a long time since we made time to walk together…"

He agreed with a knowing smile.

Indeed it had been a very long time.

"Beginning tomorrow?"

"Beginning tomorrow!"

* * *

"What is on your mind?"

"It's Lydia, dear. I no longer recognize her."

He sighed. It was indeed difficult to recognize her silly savage daughter when they were looking at the scheming young woman who was trying to enlist their other daughters in her plans.

"It's difficult to reproach her anything, dear. She's better behaved than she ever was…"

"That's a fact, but I'm worried nevertheless. She's changed. She's no longer careless. She looks at other people with mercenary eyes I didn't know could be found in our family…"

"Next time we see him, look at our dear cousin Collins. You'll see a real shark in the making. But, happily for us Collins has not only the character of a shark he has also its intelligence. That gives us a very good chance to outsmart him. If Lydia decides to use her mind to feed her greed we will have a few problems controling her…"

His wife nodded with a worried look on her face.

He took her hand and smiled at her.

"Don't worry, she's very family oriented. She won't harm her sisters or parents. She will use everything in her power to grab everything she can get, but she will share. She always shared after having gotten what she wanted…"

His wife made a face.

"I'm sorry, I failed her education…"

"No, you did fine! I was the one absent in their education. It should have been me teching them limitations. I failed, not you, but then I don't know a lot of parents who succeeded with all of their children…" He smiled at her. "We lost only two, dear. That's quite a success, don't you think?"

She nodded.

"Longbourn was a healthy country to raise children… You must have noticed that they were much less ill than other children in the neighborhood…"

"That and old Mrs. Perkins…"

Mrs. Bennet raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Mrs. Perkins? What could that old hag have to do with our children's survival?"

"She was a very good midwife, have you forgotten? She never lost a baby who was not stillborn!"

Mrs. Bennet could only reluctantly nod. She hadn't liked ol' widow Perkins. She had never fathomed why, but she had a real reluctance to greet her at home.

"After Lydia's birth we never even saw her again…"

"You never even saw her again. That doesn't mean that 'we' never even saw her again…"

"You saw her?"

"From time to time," he admitted. "Jane was spending a lot of time with her and I was rather curious about what they did together."

Her frown became deeper.

"And what did they do together?"

"She taught our Jane her trade…"

This time Mrs. Bennet could no longer lie still. She stood up and looked at her husband with more than surprise in her eyes.

"She did what? How could she. She was a gentleman's daughter. Had it been known she would have lost all chances to find a fine husband! Which gentleman would have accepted a midwife as a wife…"

Mr. Bennet chukled.

"I doubt that Geoffrey, had he known it, would have frowned at his fiancée's skills. He's quite a realist when it comes to people… And Jane never hesitated to share with her sisters…"

Another shock came upon poor Mrs. Bennet who could only lie down and pant.

"You mean all our daughters are midwives?"

"No, only Jane, but all our daughters know about herbs and potions and healing brews. They are quite efficient when it comes down to brewing an herb tea to cure a cough. Haven't you noticed that our outbuilding was always very full of various odoriferous herbs and plants…"

"I believed it was for Jane and Lizzy's perfume factory… They were so proficient at brewing their own perfumes. I thought that…"

"There was indeed that, but most of those plants went into potions, lotions and other mixtures that helped us –and the neighborhood–, quite a lot to overcome most winters without a major health problem…"

"I thought it was Mrs. Hill! It was always she who mixed the herbs…"

He shook his head.

"No, she only brewed them. The mixing was Jane or Lizzy's doing. Mrs. Hill was happy enough to live with a borrowed reputation." He chuckled once more. "Less and less borrowed truth be told. She had learned quite a lot by helping your daughters…"

Mrs. Bennet covered her mouth and looked at her husband with huge eyes.

"And I never saw a thing…"

"Never, dear… It was your daughters' secret and they managed to preserve it until now."

"But you knew! How?"

"I followed Jane, dear. I'm not very proud of it but I had to know. So I did what I had to do and learned what I wanted to know. Knowing what she was doing, I never again shadowed her…"

"But you let her go on…"

"Indeed, I let her go on. Should I have stopped her? Should I have crushed her only little hint of disobedience and rebellion? It was her passion and her only secret; I just hadn't the strength to take it away from her. I couldn't have without destroying a part of her I was just discovering." He nodded lengthily. "Yes, I permitted her behavior and I even gave her all the excuses to have her opportunities to join Mrs. Perkins in her trade. And, if the intelligence I gathered is right, she's now quite an accomplished midwife of her own!"

Mrs. Bennet took a long breath and opened her mouth.

"But…"

"No buts, dear. She's no longer our responsibility and I'm quite confident that our d'Arcy son will soon know if he doesn't already know. I don't believe they are adept at keeping secrets from each other. And, if I can be honest, he wanted her and he got her, midwife training and potion brewing included…"

He winked at his wife.

"Being a midwife didn't hinder her becoming a wife and a Countess, did it? Why should it be a problem for us, now?"

Finally she smiled.

"Indeed you are right, why should it be a problem for us? I'm even a little bit relieved."

"Relieved?"

Her eyes sparkled anew.

"She was always so perfect, dear. I was very worried about her not having all those female guiles that are so useful in a woman's life. I must admit it did worry me quite a bit. Without that arsenal it would have been rather difficult for her to stand up against a man with too much will to enslave her…"

He snorted.

"I don't know who enslaved who but I do believe that Jane did quite well with that husband of hers and that she is quite able of standing on her own in that marriage."

Mrs. Bennet nodded and smiled.

"Indeed I'm quite satisfied with her wedding management…" She winked at her husband. "It seems our daughters get their looks from me and their mind from you. They couldn't have done better."

He laughed with her.

"No they couldn't…" he agreed. "Let's hope the others follow their example."

Mrs. Bennet could only pout when she was reminded of her initial problem.

"What can we do about Lydia?"

Mr. Bennet shrugged.

"For the moment, there's no hurry, dear. She's thinking about a winning strategy and she's not yet decided how she will launch her campaign. While we are here at Pemberley we should have a respite. It will be much more difficult once we are in London…"

"Why should we go to London?"

"Geoffrey will have to go sooner or later. He won't be able to stay here when his negotiations with the Scots and the Welsh are done. He has a country to manage and it will be so much easier to manage from London. And I have no doubt that Lydia –with Jane living in London– she will give us no peace until she's there too…"

He looked at his wife.

"You know her, even with her better manners she's still the most strong-headed of all our brood. We will be able to resist a few days but it won't last more than a few weeks. I'd say by the end of September we will be in London…"

Mrs. Bennet sighed.

"We could restrain her at Longbourn…"

"We could, but it would mean hearing her protests all day long."

"As parents we should be able to accept that burden. She's only sixteen. She should know that there are limits."

"Too late for that, dear! It will be almost impossible to hold her at Longbourn. Not with Jane and the Gardiners back in London. She wants to be there and she will do what is necessary to be there."

He shook his head.

"No, I fear we have no longer any choice. I must be there and look at what she prepares."

He sighed lengthily.

"But one thing should be in our interest, a red coat is no longer enough to turn her head. Even colonel Mayfayr has lost her affections. I do believe she would accept Richard Fitzwilliam but he remembers her in her old self and won't be lured. But his indifference doesn't bother her at all. As I have followed her 'strategy' she's studying every suitable bachelor and there's not an aspect of his life she wants to oversee… She knows what she wants –_for her and for her sisters_– and she's more than determined to get only the best."

"How did we lose the silliest girl in Great Britain?"

"We didn't lose her; I think she just grew up very fast. She's seen what it means to have a gentleman of weight as a husband and she puts as much energy into getting one as she was putting into dancing and flirting. It's a rather different approach but beneath we have that same old will to get what she wants…"

Mrs. Bennet could only moan.

"I don't know. I'm not sure but I believe the old one was the more sympathetic of both. Now she seems much too interested!"

He could do nothing but agree.

"You're quite right, dear, but I see no way to get her back on her former path. She took pleasure in flirting and now I really believe that she takes even greater pleasure in scheming about her and her sisters' perfect future."

"Should I speak with Kitty and Mary?" asked Mrs. Bennet.

"It couldn't be a bad idea, dear. I know she has convinced them to follow her but they are not as ruthless as Lydia. They could probably still forsee a merrier vision of their future."

He let a smile light up his face.

"I even believe that Kitty won't take her advice into account…"

"How so?"

"I believe she fixed her choice on young Charles Bingley and while Lydia is managing her Grand Campaign I'm quite sure Kitty will do what's in her power to secure Charles for herself."

Mrs. Bennet could only smile at this news.

"Not a bad choice. He was quite an agreeable gentleman."

"Not a bad choice at all, dear. I rather like him. But of course against Prince Charming he had few chances to prevail."

He smiled back.

"We'll soon see how Kitty will act to secure him!"

"It will be interesting to observe!"

"Indeed, Mrs. Bennet. It will be interesting to observe!"


	11. Pemberley Age and Worries

One week husbandly satisfactions and patriotic frustrations...

* * *

**Chapter eleven: Pemberley age and worries**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Monday the twenty third August. Early morning.**

* * *

"What happened?"

She saw him coming out from under the curtains.

"Nothing! I thought I heard a strange voice speaking to me," said he while coming back to the bed. "But there's nobody anywhere near us. It must have been a dream…"

She opened her arms and he soon was at her side.

"Sorry to have awakened you, I've tried to be silent…"

"No need to be sorry, dear. It wasn't the noise that awakened me, but the void at my side."

She smiled at him.

"It seems to me that I'm quite in need of your nightly presence… And it's only been a week that I have had the pleasure of sleeping at your side…"

"I tried it twice before, remember?"

"Of course I remember and I'll never ever forget those two nights. Those were the nights you won me over. How could a girl resist a man who climbs trees and walls just to murmur love words in her ears…"

"I would have flown to be with you."

He chuckled.

"My armies have been lucky that I always prepare my campaigns with lots of advance details because these last two weeks I was a very inefficient warlord. My thoughts were always floating around your hair, your eyes, your…" he coughed. "…Charms! I couldn't get them out of my mind."

He laughed at himself.

"Even when I rehearsed my campaign plans with my officers there was always a pair of blue eyes looking at me and disturbing me. I don't know how I happened not to blunder this last phase of the campaign…"

She smiled at him and stroked his lips with a kiss.

"So I could have saved my country? What a shame that your single-mindedness engages only after some time… It would have been the best thing in the world to have you at my side and a free England as a bonus…"

He kissed her back.

"I wouldn't be here if I had failed…"

"Probably not, but that wouldn't have prevented my being with you…"

"I would be a prisoner somewhere…"

"I would have come to get you, monsieur d'Arcy. I would have freed you or I would have married you… But one thing is clear in my mind we would be together…"

He turned to her and she saw his sparkling eyes.

"And how would you have freed me?"

"With the help of my sisters it would have been easy. Lizzy and Papa to think of the battle plan, Lydia and Kitty to lure the guards, Mary to bore to death the remains of the garrison and Mama to cover with her screeches the sawing noise. We Bennets can be quite a dangerous lot when we have made a decision…"

He laughed at the plan. Depending on the jail it could have worked…

"And you would have done nothing, dear?"

She shook her head vehemently.

"I would have been of no use, that's for sure. I would have been so worried! Worried for you, for the rest of the family, for everything that could have failed! I would have spent every minute of your captivity crying and cursing myself for not having let you love me when I could have had you…"

He smiled at her words and came nearer. Soon they were kissing and soon she got what she wanted.

After a while they found themselves in each other's arms…

"When I'm within your arms, I feel young and healthy… I feel as if we really had years to spend together…"

She sighed inwardly and took great precautions not to let her distress be felt.

He had that idée fixe with his age that could upset him and break his joy in an instant.

"We have years to spend together. My husband is strong, handsome and powerful and I'm not going to accept his childish fears about his age…"

He sighed.

"They are not fears, dear. They are ugly realities. I'm twenty years your senior. I'll die years before you, leaving you alone with our family…"

She was on top of him even before he could finish.

"_Monsieur d'Arcy _what is it with you that you are unable to look at the bright side of life without immediately searching the darker regions that exist somewhere in your mindscape?"

His smile was back because he loved it when she climbed on top of him. It was so marvelous to look at her while sitting on him her arms akimbo…

Did she know that that particular move had extraordinary results with her naked breasts?

He looked at her eyes and decided that she knew. She was deliberately luring him in another direction. And she was probably feeling the results of her victory somewhere near her derrière.

"It comes with great age, _Madame d'Arcy_! It's called experience…"

She shook her head and that movement had an even greater effect on her bosom.

Yes, definitely she knew exactly what she was doing. And she was doing it quite efficiently.

"I wouldn't call it experience, _Monsieur d'Arcy_, I would call it pessimism…"

She bent over to let her nose touch his –and her breast stroke his chest– and whispered to get his attention.

"You're not an old man, _monsieur mon mari_. You're young and healthy and you know more about what I need than anybody else. I won't let you abandon me before I'm really satisfied with you and, believe me, _that_will take decades!"

"I already lost two of those decades…"

She hit him –_lightly_– on the head.

"Nonsense! Two decades ago I was a marvelous and healthy toddler you wouldn't even have touched without a pressing invitation from Mama. And if forced to hold me you would have falsely uttered your appreciation and lied about how beautiful I was –while praying to all Gods that it would not last longer than a few seconds–… And as soon as possible you would have given me back to Mama and looked for a way to flee to a place where somebody spoke a language you could understand…"

She growled forebodingly.

"And one decade ago you would have encountered a twelve year old girl who was very upset by the changes she was experiencing in her body and was not in the least interested in men and even less in grown men."

She looked him straight in the eyes.

"No, we met at just the right moment! I just came out of a rather difficult love deception and I was ready to make another try at a relationship. And the way you introduced yourself was quite impressive. If you wanted to make an impact on me you couldn't have done better…"

He smiled at his own silliness.

"Of course I wanted to make an impression. I wanted you to witness my extraordinary capacities as a warrior. I wanted to show you that I was still able to protect the woman I loved…"

She winked at him.

"The woman you loved?"

"Indeed. I didn't know it then but I'm sure now. One look at you was enough to bind my heart to yours in a second. Had I not had the experience of those four decades I would have been a forlorn puppy looking up at you and oblivious to anything else…"

"And those rascals would have gotten what they wanted…"

She shook her head.

"No, really, we met at the best time possible. Not too soon and not too late. Each afternoon, I look at you and your training sessions and what I see is a grown burly man who's, most of the time, able to outsmart every one of his opponents! And when said opponent gets lucky I see that he's still able to defeat a much bulkier and heavier man than himself." Her smile became more tender. "I like what I see and I love the man I observe…"

He pulled her to his side and soon they kissed and loved each other.

* * *

"Do you use what you see for your own training?"

Her eyes shot open and he felt her tense. He immediately pulled her to him and stroked her face with kisses.

"Don't try to lie to me; I know perfectly well what you're doing with Maureen and your sister in the house's attic…"

"You know?"

"I know! Remember I take great satisfaction in knowing as much as possible of what's happening around me…"

"And you said nothing?"

"What should I have said? That I agree and that I'm satisfied? That I disagree and that I'm upset?"

He turned toward her.

"Which answer would you have preferred?"

She shook her head.

"I don't know. The first, probably. But then doing it behind your back was giving me a sense of awareness I never felt before."

"You were too serious a girl and a lady, _Madame mon épouse_. You should have done those things much more often. And I must say that I rather liked looking at you and your sister while training with Maureen."

She bit him but with restraint.

"I didn't know you were a peeping Tom…"

He snorted.

"Nothing so vulgar as that! As the Master I need to know how my followers do when they teach my secret techniques. I swear I'm only looking at you to see if my technique is fairly taught. I don't even see yours and your sister's revealed charms. It's onl…"

He caught her hand just before she could strike him.

"You… You…"

He smothered her indignation under a passionate kiss.

"And I'm very proud of my wife's various talents. I would never have believed that you could convince your sister to participate."

She laughed at his proud smile.

"I didn't convince her at all. I couldn't stop her once I spoke of my training. She wanted to know it and I believe she's much better than I."

He shook his head.

"No she's not. She's just much more straightforward than you and since you're always trying not to hurt her you fight differently. Your style is more defensive and hers more offensive. But by choosing the defensive you are much better at learning the right moves. You don't have to rush anything. You take your time. Elizabeth, on the other hand, wants to master the offensive with a will of her own. You, you look more at a way to maintain your opponent out of reach. Both ways are correct. It is a choice you must make at a moment in your training. But it means that she will mostly attack and that you will more than often wait for your opponent's movement."

He sighed while stroking her cheek.

"I prefer your way myself. It's always the easiest way to chop an opponent down without hurting him badly. I do believe your sister would be even better with another fighting technique I mastered. But I taught Maureen only the best defensive techniques. I must admit that I don't trust her as much as I trust you."

She looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"You could teach us…"

He shook his head with passion.

"No, dear, I couldn't. It's already hard enough to look at you training and not jump you. Would you be wrestling with me I know exactly what would happen! And even if I'm probably able to not rape your sister, I know I'm unable to hold you in my arms without having very precise ideas of what else we should do…"

"You just said that you were only looking at us with the eye of a Master… You lied to me!"

He denied vehemently.

"No I didn't! Or I should say I try very hard. But if it's rather easy with the others…With you it's impossible! I must confess that I'm even a little jealous of your sister and of Maureen when they have you in their arms…"

She kissed him for his charming compliment.

"No reason to be jealous of Maureen, she hurts me whenever she can… There's no love between us…"

He agreed.

"But she's no longer as efficient as at the beginning." He kissed her brow. "You're much less blue and brown than a few days earlier. It means that you've got the right moves at your disposal. Not that she likes you more. And it's much better if you stay on unfriendly terms. I want her to protect you and I don't want you to forget that she is your bodyguard by beginning to think of her as a friend. It's very difficult to send friends to be killed. An ex mistress of one's husband is much easier…"

She frowned at him.

"You loved her once! How can you be so cold while speaking of her possible death?"

"We shared some feelings. I now know what it means to love. So I'm sure that it was never love between us. She used me and I used her and we both did find some new sanity in our relationship. It was a healing process, not the passion I feel for you. I have no doubt that she would hurt me if necessary and I would do the same…"

He took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly.

"You, I could never harm in any way. That's the simple and definite truth. You're more important to me than anything else on this earth, myself included… So, no, I'm not going to teach you! Maureen knows enough to be a good teacher for a few more weeks and after that we'll see. In the future I'll perhaps be able to look at one of your nipples without going immediately into a mating frenzy!"

She chuckled at his affirmation.

"I don't know what to hope, dear. I love knowing that I have that effect on you but I'm not sure it's a good thing. I don't want you to lose your mind over me…"

He smiled at her.

"It's not as difficult as it once was. I'm able to look at you without losing my self control. It's only when I see those very precious parts of yourself that I'm the only one allowed to see that I am overcome. It should be possible to rule myself most of the time…"

She pulled him against her and this time they went peacefully to sleep.

* * *

She was combing her hair when he came out of their bathroom.

"Does Darcy know?"

She had no problems guessing the topic of that question.

"Yes and no…"

"Oh, oh," said he. "I suspect a very tiny 'yes' and a rather huge 'no', am I wrong?"

She sighed.

"He knows that Lizzy and I are learning with Maureen."

"Learning? What does he believe she's teaching?"

"We're not sure," was the answer. "We were not very precise in our explanations. Some foreign dancing technique. I'm not sure we uttered the word 'chinese'. Probably not! Since it's something indoor she does with me, he's not really worried. He has, just now, other more important problems on his mind. We are not sure how he would react if he knew the truth. And Lizzy rather likes our training sessions. Probably more than I do…"

He looked at her but couldn't see her eyes to verify whether or not she was disguising the truth. Probably not! He could only smile a very satisfied and proud little smile. She was like that _his_wife. Much too honest for a husband like him.

"Well since I want you to go on with your training, I'll have to ask Fitzwilliam about his consent for adding his wife to these training sessions. I'm sure I'll find a way to get it… As you know I'm quite the manipulator…"

She looked at him.

"That's what you like pretending, yes…"

He winked at his wife.

"I'm a great pretender, am I not?"

She could only nod…


	12. Pemberley Cousins

**Chapter twelve: Pemberley Cousins**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Monday the twenty third August. Morning.**

* * *

It was the time of the day when Elizabeth and Jane chose to disappear to his wife's drawing room to comment on their new married life.

So it was also the time when Fitzwilliam Darcy had the leisure to follow his duties as an estate owner.

But for today! Since, today, his cousin Richard had asked to speak with him.

They both sat facing each other in Darcy's main study.

After a few minutes of restless silence Richard was the first to speak.

He was wearing his uniform and all his decorations.

"Now, how is it to host him?"

Fitzwilliam had no problem to identify "him".

"Like hosting a whirlwind," he answered. "The only time he's not doing ten chores at the same time is at night when he spends a few hours with my sister. I even saw him manage two different meetings at the same time…"

Richard nodded. He was here for only a couple of days, but he had already been witness to his new cousin's relentless activity.

"Shame he is family, isn't it?"

Fitzwilliam looked at his cousin and studied his face.

"He wouldn't be here if he wasn't family, Richard. And I'm quite sure in that case we would not have the least chance to even speak with him. Have you seen anyone speaking with him outside of the strict schedule his secretary holds for him? I do believe only family will be allowed to approach him without a strict rendezvous'. So, please Richard, stop following those nasty thoughts…"

That brought Richard's temper out in the open.

"Man! He is our enemy! We should at the very least try!"

Fitzwilliam looked at his cousin until he snorted and sat back in his armchair.

"No we shouldn't, Richard. Not only because he is family but mostly because it would be a mistake. He's the only thing that protects what remains of the United Kingdom against the Consulate's rapacity…"

Richard growled and shook his head.

"Without him they would be disorganized…"

Fitzwilliam had to laugh at his cousin's frustration.

"And? Would it organize us? We are defeated and what's left of our army is boarding ships to sail to some distant location. Even if we could kill him, nobody would be able to use that opportunity to turn the tide. We would just get another 'proconsul' and I'm quite sure this new one would have none of the reasons d'Arcy has to respect us…"

Richard snorted anew, looking even more like his horse.

"You mean _his_ reason! The only reason I see for his respect is his need to please his wife…"

Fitzwilliam shook his head and shot a little smile at his cousin.

"I'm not sure it's his only reason but even if it is, isn't it enough? He wants to please her and doing this it happens that he is much more lenient than any other conqueror has been for quite a long time."

He stood up and got a book out of his shelves.

He handed it to his cousin.

"You still read Italian? If I remember well you were even better than I in foreign languages…"

Richard nodded and took the book.

"Please have a look at the last chapters. It's a report of what Napoleon and his goons stole, robbed and pillaged from their Italian _allies_… And when you look at the names of said goons, you'll discover that most of them are right here in Great Britain…"

He looked his cousin straight in the eyes.

"And not one of them has stolen, robbed or pillaged while here under his command… That's quite an accomplishment, isn't it? So, please restrain your blood lust and take the situation at face value. Even if legally, we are French, it seems to me that we are much more d'Arcy's subjects than Napoleon's. And of the two I know which one I prefer…"

Richard looked to heaven and hit his armchair viciously.

"Alright, Fitz, we are lucky that it is him but you can't deny that we are conquered. We must do something; we can't just let it happen."

Fitzwilliam shook his head and a slight smile appeared on his face.

"What can we do, Richard? While you had all your army in defensive positions awaiting him you couldn't stop him. Do you really believe that you'll do better now that he is here and that his men are everywhere? If you want to launch a counterstrike, please wait until he is gone to America with his armies. I'm quite sure it won't be enough, but the circumstances will be much better than today."

Richard could no longer sit still.

He stood up and took his favorite cousin by his shoulders.

"Fitz, you should hear yourself speak! One could believe that you are one of his goons. Man, you seem to really admire him!"

Fitzwilliam pushed his cousin's hands away and moved back a pace.

"And you don't, perhaps?" he snapped. "I've seen how you look at him. And there's no trace of spite in your eyes, Richard. Only respect and envy! What wouldn't you give to have him as your commander in chief, Richard? What?"

Richard could only lower his eyes and agree.

"Well," said he after a few seconds when he lifted his head to show a rueful smile. "He's family after all. It's not every day that you discover that the world had another strategic genius in store and that said genius is family. Gives quite a boost to one's self esteem…" His smile grew. "You can even imagine that some of that genius is there within you ready to be called and used…"

Fitzwilliam's ire disappeared and it was his turn to hold his cousin's shoulders.

"We're just cursed to live in an interesting time where our family is on both sides of the fray. I really hope we won't end killing each other on the battle field…"

Richard apologized to his young cousin with a shy smile.

"I can't promise anything, Fitz, but it does not seem we should have that opportunity for a long time. I don't know what our would-be King is going to do, but he is facing a few very difficult decisions…"

He shook his head once more.

"Great Britain has lost more than its Mainland. Great Britain has lost his faith in his army and, what's even uglier; it has lost its faith in its King. And that's all d'Arcy's doing. He knew that he would transform a hated Crown Prince into a martyr and a saint if he crushed him on a battle field. And with more Princes than necessary to fill in the role of future King, he would have built a real fellowship for the King's family."

Richard had problems with his voice. He coughed out the tremors and went on.

"By letting him run, he killed him more efficiently than with a gun! And he killed not only George but all his brethren who are just running alongside with him. Look at you, Fitz, you've lost all faith in our King."

He stopped Fitzwilliam incoming protest with a frown.

"Be honest, Fitz, each time you speak of him there's an ugly frown on your brow and a smirk on your face. Would you respond to his call if he asked you to join him in battle against our cousin?"

He answered his own question.

"Of course not! Because he has lost not only our land but our trust."

He sighed lengthily.

"I'm quite sure I'm here because the Prince was no longer able to trust my allegiance. He sent me here in order to still get something out of me. Because right now, even if I'm very grateful to him for knighting me and giving me an Estate, I'm very disappointed with his various decisions. I would gladly have died at his side defending London. We could have protected the city and its citizen by accepting an open field battle. We would have been crushed for sure but we would have sent a very important message to all our subjects. That we prefer to die fighting for them rather than letting them under the froggie's rule. It wouldn't have changed anything in the end but for one point: we would still have a Royal Family! By running, he just showed everybody that his real goal was to survive. Not to defend us! And with this choice he wagered a lot of what he still owned."

There was a lengthy silence between the two cousins.

"And that's not all," said Fitzwilliam. "I've heard my tenants speak of d'Arcy. They like him, Richard. They rather like the fact that a d'Arcy is at the top of the food chain. They are proud that he came to Pemberley to rule and they are convinced that he's a much better ruler than any Hanoverian could ever have been. He's perhaps an invader but he's not perceived as a danger by them. He was able to reassure them that the new power would not transform their lives to a worse state. I saw him speak to some of my more courageous people. And when, afterwards, they came to me, they were reassured that everything was as usual, that the foundation of our society hadn't been changed. They even really believe that things are going to be better now than they were before!"

He shook his head.

"He did this to my people, who have always been treated kindly and who have never been exploited by the family. What will happen in estates where the owner forgot his responsibilities and made the lives of his tenants a Hell on earth? What will happen in the factories and in London where our circle or peers exploits humankind for profit? They will flock to his side like a swarm of locusts."

Richard could only laugh at his cousin's image.

"Man, be serious! You said it yourself: this is Darcy Land! Of course they will love having a Darcy at the top. They have known your family for centuries. They know that Darcys are fair and honest and hard-working. Now they even have a Darcy who's a military genius and a leader of great armies. Right now, they are probably unable to think of better men to rule the country but it's only parochialism, Fitz. The others will not follow this path; they don't know the Darcys as well as your tenants. For them, the Darcys are just another bunch of estate owners who exploit their tenants…"

It was Fitzwilliam's turn to laugh at his cousin's words.

"Listen to your words, Richard. Listen to the way you refer to your fellow estate owners! Don't you feel that we just arrived at a point where everything is possible and where nobody can be sure what will happen tomorrow?" Fitzwilliam shook his head and wandered toward the window.

He saw his in-laws walking and was quite amazed to see them banter like much younger people…

Soon he felt Richard's presence at his side.

"Even if what you feel is right, Fitz, we must use it to strengthen our cause…"

Fitzwilliam didn't turn his head while answering.

"And what's our cause, Richard? What are we going to be tomorrow? Are we going to remain those tenant-exploiting estate owners of yours? Is that our cause? Is said cause to exploit the people of the land to become richer and richer and richer?"

"My God, Fitz, you're in a black mood today. Of course our cause is England, Great Britain and the United Kingdom. We must work to rebuild what we just lost. We must recreate what was…"

Fitzwilliam lost sight of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and turned toward his cousin.

"Is that really our cause, Richard. To return to old paths where a few people were becoming richer by exploiting an even larger number of peasants, tenants and workers?"

Richard took his cousin by the shoulders and shook him.

"Wake up, Fitz! We are what we are. We cannot sink the boat we are sailing on. We cannot afford a Revolution. It would mean too much destruction and mayhem. We just escaped a bloody and destructive war of conquest; we don't want to plunge our Land into a civil war! Believe me; we don't want such a disaster. If our society needs some changes we will build them ourselves. We don't need the French to show us the way!"

Fitzwilliam shook his head once more.

"Listen to you, Richard. You're all contradictions! You don't want to plunge our Land into a civil war but you would gladly accept a guerilla war against the occupant armies? What would be the difference, Richard? Do you really believe it would be a better war than a civil war? And why are you so sure it would lead us into a civil war? Nothing's sure. We could do it peacefully just by using the opportunity d'Arcy's presence gives us…"

Richard paced back and looked at his cousin with wonder in his eyes.

"You would use his presence to change the society?"

"Why not? Our society needs some changes and the presence of the French is an opportunity we should grasp. It's always a boon to have somebody to bear the guilt…"

Richard made a face.

"Changing the society is not my priority, Fitz. Kicking the French out of Great Britain is! We shouldn't mix our priorities."

"No," agreed Fitzwilliam, "we shouldn't! And I do believe that our priority is not the presence of the French but the construction of a better society where every member of said society could have a better share of the riches…"

Richard looked toward heaven.

"Man, are you mad? One would believe you're one of those revolutionaries who want to topple our social order only to replace it with a democracy…"

Fitzwilliam stood his ground.

"Monarchy failed us, Richard! And our social order as you call it has failed the people of Great Britain." He shook his Head. "God, Richard, our Monarch is running! Quickly and without looking behind him. We could perhaps use this chance to do some good around us…"

Richard came nearer and he began to whisper.

"Man, come back to earth! You're speaking treason here…"

"What treason, Richard? Who's betraying whom? The man who runs away or those who stay behind to do the dirty work? I don't know if you're getting the catastrophe's extent, Richard! We have been left alone with a foreign occupation force stationed on our lands. Our dear sovereign has escaped with his most precious jewels while abandoning his people to a foreign power. As for me, there's nothing left to betray! For me and for everybody who's able to read the Treaty signed by our former King and d'Arcy we are now citizens of the French Republic! I no longer owe anything to George of Ireland and Hanover. But I'm very well aware that England is currently the responsibility of my brother who has, as First Proconsul, absolute power over the Land and its inhabitants."

He looked his cousin in the eyes.

"You do understand that, don't you? I can say it in fewer words, Richard. It's no longer George who commands here but d'Arcy! And when I say _here_ I don't mean Pemberley but the whole of the British Isles. And if I have understood what my wife had to say about what's possible, I'd say that it's only up to d'Arcy to decide what our Country will look like in the coming years! And since said d'Arcy seems to be open to some suggestions of what to do to improve the situation, I will not hesitate, while he's here, to let him know what I believe is best for my country. Richard, I swear that, while he's ready to listen to me, I'll do what's in my power to get the best out of these unhappy circumstances!" He shot a hard glance to his cousin.

"And don't speak of treason to me! There's only our people left to betray and I won't do it for those foreigners who chose to run!"

General Richard Fitzwilliam could only nod at his cousin's convictions.

He couldn't agree with him but he knew it was only because of the uniform he was still wearing.

Perhaps this was why he had chosen to wear it for this discussion…


	13. Pemberley Wives and Daughters

Questions...

* * *

**Chapter thirteen: ****Pemberley Daughters, wives, sisters**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Monday the twenty-third August. Late morning and early afternoon.**

* * *

Coming home from his morning stroll with his wife, Edward Bennet decided to have a look at the little hidey hole his married daughters had chosen to be out of anyone's attention.

He had to admit without shame he was happier than ever before.

His relations with his wife were like… like at no other time in their life. They had known passion, hostility and indifference but felicity? No, never felicity and it was a marvelous feeling to feel the other's mood just by looking at her.

And then there was this overwhelming satisfaction with those marvelous daughters of his.

That marriage could bring happiness was a common fairy tale every mother told to her daughters to let them have some hope for the future.

But, in some very rare cases it was the truth.

And, even if he could only admit that after ten days it was too soon to believe that it would last for their whole life, he was quite satisfied with his eldest's encounter with marital life.

Because there was no doubt that they were happy and satisfied with their lot.

They had even begun to develop a similitude which was quite astounding.

Shy Jane was blossoming into a self conscious and determined young wife while acerbic Lizzy was relinquishing her darts to look at the world with patience and understanding.

They were still very different when looked upon, but their personalities were becoming more and more similar.

And even his youngest girls were improving.

All silliness seemed to have been erased to make room for more ladylike behaviors.

He snorted. Well some ladylike behaviors he would have been happy not to see in his family but then, as already said, Lydia's new obsession could be accepted as a "normal" part of a young heiress' demeanor.

But he couldn't be less satisfied with what was happening there.

Colonel Mayfayr seemed really smitten with his youngest and Mr. Bennet would have been very happy to grant him his wish to marry Lydia if she had not let him know in very decisive words that such _low_ aristocracy was no longer interesting.

He had, of course, never told the charming young colonel that his daughter was hunting higher prizes. Nobody could predict what would come out of said hunt and if her strategy was not as successful as Lydia believed, it would be very convenient to have the dear colonel as a ready and willing backup.

So Mr. Bennet had lied and put his youngest's age in front of his –_for the time being_– refusal.

With luck his ambitious little daughter would soon understand that low but loving aristocracy was much more interesting than high but indifferent aristocracy.

He took a deep breath and knocked at Mrs. Darcy's drawing room door.

He was quite satisfied to listen to his daughters' lull in conversation before Lizzy's inviting 'Yes'.

He opened the door and showed his face.

"Could I have a few minutes of your time, my ladies? I promise I won't interrupt you more than a few minutes and soon you'll be able to go on comparing your husbands' advantages…"

He was quite satisfied to see both of them blush.

Jane more than Lizzy but then she had a much fairer complexion than Lizzy and she had much more experience in blushing than her younger sister.

He raised a hand and pointed at them. He was an old man and a father and he could, from time to time, use unseemly gestures.

"Don't dare protest, remember there's nobody who knows you better than me… And looking at your sparkling eyes and blushing cheeks I'm sure you weren't speaking of me or any other uninteresting family subject**…**"

He chuckled.

"And since the only other interesting subject would be the invasion, I'm quite sure to have guessed your current topic…"

They didn't acknowledge his guess, but exchanged a knowing look.

Lizzy, as the Mistress of the house spoke for them.

"What can we do for you, Papa?"

He just smiled at them and shook his head.

"Nothing, dear, I'm quite satisfied as it is. I just wanted to see my babies…"

He saw their frowns and made no effort to hide his satisfaction at their reaction.

For a long time now they had hated it when he called them his babies and their new married status did nothing to increase their acceptance of said words.

Didn't they know that they were his babies 'til the end of all time?

That he had to just close his eyes to see them as they were twenty years before?

He chose to withdraw.

"Let us use other words, then… I wanted to see my marvelous and beautiful young daughters while I'm able to do it. Soon I'll be back at Longbourn and you'll be with your husbands and with luck I'll see you thrice a year and…"

"Papa, stop it," said Jane with a smile in her eyes. "It's not funny and you know that you'll be welcome at each of our homes whenever you want …"

He nodded and smiled at them.

"Indeed I know but it's not quite the same. You're no longer mine and even if I'm content with your happiness I'm upset with the thought that I have lost you…"

His words had the desired effect and he was soon surrounded by both his daughters.

He even received a few kisses from them.

He couldn't hide all his satisfaction and soon they were all laughing at his performance.

"Well ladies I was lying, I would like you to do me a favor…"

"Of course," said Jane.

"What is it," said Elizabeth.

He smiled at the difference. Yes they were becoming more similar but their true personalites would never change…

"Which one of you will be the first to make a grand-father of me?"

His girls looked at each other and then at him.

"We can't be sure," said Jane who was the local expert on pregnancies. "We have that happy feeling that we're both already pregnant. But then nothing is sure about such things. If we are right, it could happen within a few days. You'll have your d'Arcy and Darcy Grandchildren probably within the same week. Were we still on the same continent we could have our confinement at the same place. It would have been a real joy…"

These last words were said with a certain tenseness.

He took her hand and stroked it.

"You're not yet in America, dear. It could be that knowing you're pregnant your husband decides to stay a little longer. Long cruises are not the best medicine for pregnant women. I'm sure that he will think twice before shipping you off to Louisiana…"

She smiled at his support but could not help making a face.

"You know him, don't you? He probably has everything planned for the next fifteen years…"

He shook his head.

"He never planned on marrying you, so all his future plans will probably have to be changed to take you into account! And if you are pregnant, I've no doubt that he'll very soon begin to think about altering some more of the details in his arrangements."

He winked at her and made a sign to Lizzy to get her support.

Immediately she was at her sister's side.

"Don't despair already. You're not yet abroad. And England will use quite a lot of his energy if he wants his installation to go on as peacefully as he managed his invasion to be until now."

He looked her in the eyes.

"Promise me not to despair too soon. There's a world of difference between a conquering bachelor and a doting husband. And there's even more difference if you add your pregnancy to the equation. He loves you and he knows that you and Lizzy are very close. He won't forget it, you'll see…"

He kissed her and then Lizzy.

"I'll leave you now. Don't fret about the future! Never forget that you have your say in this matter. Use it to get what you need…"

He smiled at them and departed.

Hopefully they would think about what could be done to let them stay together.

* * *

"Papa…"

They had just ended their lunch and Jane had hurried behind him as soon as Geoffrey had disappeared with the delegates of Scotland and Wales.

"What can I do for my little baby…"

As usual he got a frown. He stopped the incoming remark with a gesture of his hands.

"Sorry I forgot! You're no longer my baby girl… I'll try to remember it in the future."

She looked at him with a frown.

"You forgot nothing, Papa. You did it on purpose!"

He opened large astonished eyes.

"Did I? Why should I do such a thing? I ask you, dear, why?"

She made a face at him.

"That's what I'd like to know Papa. It has been years since the last time you called me or Lizzy your baby girl…"

He sighed.

"That's probably because it's the first time in years I'm aware of your youth and my age. I'm soon to be grandfather, dear. I'm not sure I ever was aware of being a father and now I'm to be a granddad. I'm quite overwhelmed…"

She frowned and came nearer.

"What is it with your age? Geoffrey seems to be all too conscious of his age these last days. Not a day goes by without him trying to explain that I'll soon be alone to rear our family…"

Mr. Bennet took his daughter in his arms and looked her in the eyes.

"Is that what is troubling you?"

"No," answered she, "And yes… It's difficult to explain…"

He took her hand and pulled her toward the garden.

"If I remember correctly last time we spoke while walking we found a few interesting answers. Let's try it once more…"

* * *

A few minutes later, they were walking toward the lake and an unhappy silence was spreading.

"Well, dear, you wanted to speak to me… What's the matter…"

Jane sighed and looked at her father.

"It's difficult… I… It's…"

Edward Bennet couldn't help but laugh at his daughter's distress.

"Alright, let me help you!"

He began to count on his fingers.

"Let's eliminate an intimate question. I'm absolutely certain that never ever will you come to your old Papa with questions about… hm… hm… Let's say matters of marital bliss."

He sniffed while looking at his daughter and soon had all the confirmation he wanted with her embarrassed stare.

He made a funny face.

"I'm also sure that you won't come to me to get financial advice. I've proved all my life that I'm a lousy manager and that I was even worse when it came to predicting the necessities of the future."

He stopped and pulled his daughter in order to be able to look into her eyes.

"So I see only one last topic where I'm the best specialist available, the topic of failed and unhappy marriages…"

She protested but he saw that was exactly what she wanted to know.

And she was quite lucky since he had thought a lot and spoken even more about it with his wife. And they had found more than a few reasons why their marriage had been for so long an unhappy failure.

He looked her in the eyes.

"Let me be very straight, dear. Are you unhappy?"

She shook her head vehemently and he saw that she was not lying.

But he also saw that she was worried. Very worried.

He pointed toward a bank [not sure what this means, did he see a fallen log or flat rock for them to sit?] and pulled her towards it.

"Be honest with your old frail Papa, what is it that worries you…"

She made a face and looked very unhappy. He could understand her reticence. It was never easy to speak about one's secret fears. And he was very very glad that she was with him to address those difficult matters.

"I'm very worried about him, Papa. When he looks at me he has that longing in his eyes…"

"Well that's more good news, isn't it?"

"It's not longing for me, Papa. It's longing for what he is going to lose…"

_Oh, oh… That's a real problem with a very empathic wife. She's probably able to feel things he would rather not let her know._

He inhaled deeply.

"Let's not worry too much about that aspect. You don't believe he wants to commit suicide, do you?"

The shocked look he got was a balm to his heart.

"Or course not! He's just always weighing everything that could happen to him." She forced herself to go on. "Everything lethal…"

He took her in his arms.

"He's a man of the sword, dear. There is always the risk of a stray bullet that comes out of nowhere to kill the most prudent man. He cannot not think of it, dear. Would I have had the luck to have found the lady of my heart, I would also worry about losing my happiness to a stray bullet or cannon ball… And I would use every second of my presence at her side to impress my eyes with her beauty…"

That got him a little smile.

"You're quite the poet today, Papa…"

"Why shouldn't I be, dear? My life has just been transformed by two very handsome and interesting young gentlemen and if I look at my new life it is a thousand times more interesting than my former one. I even am able to have intelligent conversations with your mother…"

He looked at the heaven.

"Dear, I just walked into another reality! How could I not let the poet in me blossom?"

She smiled shyly at him and he knew that there was something else.

_Time to speak of important things, old man._

"But that's not what really worries you, dear, am I wrong?"

She didn't answer and he decided to go on.

"What you want to know is how I happened to fail in my marriage the way I did it, isn't it?"

The way she looked at her feet was answer enough.

"Well it all comes down to selfishness and egoism, dear. We gradually stopped caring for each other. It didn't come immediately, but it came on steadily and one day we were strangers to each other. And what you accept from a loved one you cannot stand from a stranger, believe me." He chuckled. "And it's even worse than you imagine because you know nothing of a real stranger. Of your wife or husband you know everything and, of course you revel in slighting each and each of her failings. From that point on, it goes from bad to worse…"

He sighed.

"In hindsight it looks like a war where you use your knowledge of what has become an enemy to hurt him as badly and often as possible… And at a certain point there's nothing left and the enemies retreat to their own kingdoms they never again exit… Probably to rot in their own anger and hatred!"

Seeing her shocked eyes he took her in his arms.

"But, as you can see there's a possibility of redemption."

He forced her to lift her head.

"And what happened to your mother and me will never happen to you if you take a few little precautions!"

That got all her attention.

"What must I do?"

There was so much hope in her voice that he felt tears well in his eyes. He hugged her and discreetly made them disappear.

"Not you alone, dear. What must be done you must do together…"

She nodded. He couldn't help but smile at her certainty. She knew he would listen. She knew he would do what she asked of him.

_Oh Godhow wonderful it was to be in love in such a manner. _

"What must we do, Papa?"

He inhaled and let her go.

"First you must never let silence intrude in your life. He will need silence. We all do. So give him his time alone. One day is the maximum. Because at a certain point you'll have to go to him and speak to him. About him! About nothing else dear, only about him. I know women are able to feel compassion –_and spite_– in a speech even if the topic is flowers or embroidery. And they take comfort in the simple fact that somebody took time to speak with them. We cannot. If you want to speak about us, speak about us and nothing else. Your compassion and love must appear clearly, if not, he won't be able to feel it and your babbling will anger him even more than you can imagine. Because you will look indifferent to his problems. As if you were unable to feel his suffering. He will need your compassion but you must go straight to it. No detour, no politeness. Force him to speak of himself by showing him that you care and that his uneasiness is making you unhappy about the situation. Not of him, dear! Be very very careful to let him know that you care and you're happy to be with him…"

He looked at her and he saw that she had taken every one of his words with the sincerity of a true adept. He smothered a smile. It was not funny. He had botched his marriage and from what he had heard his parents' marriage was even less happy. His daughter was in need of reassurance and advice. And advice he would give.

He sighed.

"That's probably the most important advice I can give you. But there's another one not so vital, but important nevertheless…"

He looked at his daughter's serious eyes.

"What is it about Geoffrey that grates on your nerves?"

She looked at him, shock in her eyes.

"Nothing grates on my nerves, he's…"

She stopped when he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head with a knowing smile.

He waited and after a few seconds she sighed.

"He's always tidying up…" said she in a whisper. "Each time he sees something laying around he puts it in the place he thinks it should be. He does it without even seeming to notice it. It's rather unnerving."

He couldn't help but smile.

It had always been Lizzy who tidied up in their room, never Jane. She was the most precious and patient of his daughters but tidying up had never been her preoccupation. With Lizzy and the servants nothing ever stayed around long enough to bother her. Amazing that she would get a husband who…

"That's only the beginning, you'll see… Don't let it become a nuisance. Speak with him about it; let him know that it unnerves you. Don't ask him to stop it, if he likes to tidy up, let him do it and be happy with it. But let him know that if your untidiness…"

"There's no…"

He stopped her with a grimace.

"…Is not welcome you will do your best to stop it. He will probably say that it's not a problem and that he can do it for two… Remember he's just now madly in love, even your untidiness can be looked at as one of your endearing qualities. But having spoken of it will deflate what could have become at one time or another, a problem between you. After you've spoken of it, you will never be able to use your different approaches on tidiness as a reproach against the other… One less reason to begin a domestic fight is worth a lot, do believe me!"

He smiled at her and gave her a kiss.

"Now all you have to do is put away your loving and blinding feelings to see what is really unnerving you in your husband's personality. And speak with him about it…"

She nodded and, after kissing him, ran toward the house.

He looked at her and smiled a loving smile at her running figure.

He was a lucky man and he reveled in it.

* * *

"Lizzy?"

Elizabeth looked up from the books she was studying with Mrs. Reynolds.

"Yes?"

"Could I speak with you a few moments? I believe it's important but it could wait until after the meal."

Elizabeth looked at Mrs. Reynolds who nodded with a little smile.

"We have seen everything I wanted you to see for today. We'll see tomorrow morning if you remember everything."

Elizabeth thanked her with a smile and joined her sister on the terrace.

"What's so important, Jane?"

"I would like you to be very honest with me, Lizzy."

Elizabeth could only frown at such a request.

"I'll try…"

Jane nodded and inhaled deeply.

"Does Geoffrey have faults?"

That question let Elizabeth open mouthed and wide eyed.

"What do you mean, faults?"

"As in faults, aspects of his personality you do not like…"

"Apart from his arrogance, the way he treats everybody save you and the horrible little smile he shows each time he looks at Fitzwilliam?"

Jane lost what was left of her color.

"Apart? Are there more?"

Elizabeth took her by the elbow and pulled her toward the garden where no foreign ears would be listening.

"You, my lady, have obviously a few things to explain to your loving sister and said loving sister is very eager to know them… Could you begin immediately?"


	14. Pemberley Brothers

Discussions...

* * *

**Chapter fourteen: ****Pemberley Brothers**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Tuesday the twenty fourth August. Morning.**

* * *

There was an unusual knock on the study's door that shook Fitzwilliam Darcy out of his accounting books.

He frowned since he had given strict orders not to be disturbed and he knew that nobody –_save Elizabeth, but it clearly had not been her delicate and discreet knock-knock– _would dare to act against his orders.

So it could only be one person. The only one who did not take his orders from him at Pemberley.

"Come in…"

And, as feared, there was his cousin/brother in full regalia.

"May I disturb you? I know you have a lot of work to do, but my negotiation partners are experiencing, once more, cold feet, and they need to discuss a few things out of my looming presence. And since I'd like to have a word with you, it could be now…"

Fitzwilliam pondered a refusal.

He could say 'no'! Indeed he wished fervently to say 'no' but it would be bad policy.

Visibly his guest was in a very polite mood and it would do nothing but hurt him to refuse.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," said Fitzwilliam while pointing to his best armchair. "Do you wish tea?"

"Gladly," answered Geoffrey while opening his red coat and loosening his cravat. "If you have time, I'm in no hurry. I fear they will spend the rest of the morning trying to find a way to say 'yes' while looking as if they were under duress…"

Which was nothing surprising to Fitzwilliam! Elizabeth had said as much about the Scottish and Welsh emissaries. It seemed that they had the same effect on d'Arcy as d'Arcy on him. Unnerving!

Fitzwilliam called his butler and gave him his new orders.

Tea arrived within the next minutes and Fitzwilliam was, at the time the maid was bringing it, sitting opposite d'Arcy.

"What can I do for you, brother?"

Fitzwilliam chose this title on a hunch. It was perhaps time to look at this man with other eyes. Elizabeth had been rather adamant that without efforts from both sides the situation would not better itself for a long time.

The choice put a smile on d'Arcy's face.

"I see you got the same tongue lashing from your wife that I got from mine," he said with sparkling eyes. "I fear that yesterday was a very interesting day for them. They have spent quite a long time together and, as a result, it happened that last night the d'Arcys spoke of rather strange topics together…"

"Faults and failings? Bad habits? Unacceptable behaviors?"

d'Arcy's smile increased.

"Quite the same… And it was more than interesting. Never would I have thought that I had so many nasty little habits…"

Fitzwilliam laughed at his brother's words. Indeed last night's discussion had been rather surprising if not uninteresting, in fact it had been very interesting.

"We could exchange knowledge. After describing me to myself she asked about her faults and failings and I must admit that, after, a few minutes thinking I was able to find a few… It was a refreshing experience. I'm glad we could have that particular exchange while in a good mood and while able to laugh at the accumulation of failings we ignored each other to possess…"

D'Arcy nodded and bent forwards.

"And that's why I would like to apologize, Fitzwilliam. It seems that I'm a rather unpalatable host and that I always smile at you with an arrogant and haughty grimace on my lips."

He sighed.

"And I have to admit that my wife mimicking me was rather impressive." He raised an apologetic hand. "But as a last line of defense I must say that you're not the only recipient of said _smile_ but I admit that with family it can only be qualified as very bad manners on my part. So, I will try to correct that little failing of mine. First with you and then with those numerous others who seem to grate on my nerves much more than I was aware of …"

"Apology accepted, brother. And I will try to do the same with you…" He sighed. "It seems that if we are to safeguard the level of marital bliss we achieved, some diplomatic efforts to each other will be necessary."

D'Arcy nodded while sitting back in his armchair.

"I've thought about those habits while listening to the emissaries' chatter. I was not aware of it, but I do have that wish not to befriend anybody. I like a solitary life, Fitzwilliam. Or should I say I liked a solitary life? Being close to people is not a thing I do easily. Most it is out of mistrust but it is also because I'm quite conscious that being my friend is a very dangerous occupation."

His smile disappeared.

"I lost quite a few friends in my life. And most of them were assassinated because of their link to me. And at some point in my life, I must have decided that being without friends was a much safer enterprise. For me and for said would-be friends…"

He shook his head as if speaking to himself.

"I suppose it's no longer as important as in the past. Now that I have a wife and a family there's no doubt who will be first in line to receive bullets intended for me…"

It was Fitzwilliam's turn to lean forward.

"You can't believe that…"

d'Arcy shook his head and looked him in the eyes.

"I don't believe it, Fitzwilliam. I know it!"

He took his cup of tea and sipped slowly at it.

"In my trade, you have a few honorable enemies and a whole shipload full of dishonorable ones. And the latter will never hesitate to hurt you by striking at loved ones." His smile came back but it was a shy little thing. "You, of course, would never do such a thing Fitzwilliam! You're the epitome of honorable behavior. But, let me teach you a thing, Fitzwilliam. You're the first one I met and you'll be, in my opinion, the only one I'll ever meet. Even our cousin Richard is not as honorable as you are."

He stopped his cousin's protest with a gesture.

"He would not hesitate to kill me and my wife to further England's cause. It would probably destroy him as a result, but he would do it… And he is the nearest thing to honorable I met after discovering you…"

"There must be more," countered Fitzwilliam. "A gentleman's honor is his most valuable quality. Nothing else, save loved ones, should be at the center of his life…"

d'Arcy shook his head.

"You're deluding yourself, brother. You're the last one! I spent a lot of time in a lot of countries and I'm quite sure of my analysis. If honor really existed in our families it died out a few centuries ago. It survived only here at Pemberley. And even if I'm rather proud to have you in my family, you must know that you're a liability. Honorable men do tend to be backstabbed by dishonorable ones."

He put his cup back on the table.

"And, I must say that it takes more than Pemberley and your father's education to transform a normal slimy greedy and power hungry man into a man of honor. Look at our half brother! He received the same advantages as you –_and more_– and _**HE**_ is the epitome of falsehood and wickedness. You're quite lucky Wickham never knew that he was your father's first son. I'm sure he would have killed you to get Pemberley. I'm not quite sure he won't try to get it even now. I know this kind of man. He will see his present difficulties not as his doing but as a result of your evil machinations. He did nothing and he suffered all he suffered because of you. You are his nemesis and I could bet that even at this very moment, if he already got our letter, he is planning his next back stab. And I'm quite sure the back he is looking at is yours, Fitzwilliam."

His shark's smile returned.

"You should let me deal with him. A few orders and we would be rid of him."

Immediately Darcy opened his mouth to protest.

Facing his brother's frown d'Arcy relented.

"Alright, alright! Since he is family, I'll do it myself! A fast trip to London, a little stealthy pursuit in the back alleys he loves so much and our dear brother will never again be a threat to our families…"

Darcy was tempted to answer but d'Arcy's eyes spoke volumes. He was pulling his leg.

He made a face but relaxed without entering his brother's game.

"That's what I meant about honorable, Fitzwilliam. He's a snake, if you were still the Master of Pemberley, he would not hesitate to kill you or your family to get what he has lusted after since his youth…" d'Arcy's smile increased. "Now since I'm officially the owner of Pemberley, he will try to attack me, I'm sure. You have nothing against me defending myself against him, do you?"

Darcy shook his head.

"He's a fool but he's not so foolish as to attack you…"

Darcy's nod increased.

"Yes he will! And he will try to show it as a patriotic matter so he'll benefit from his crime. Showing me as the enemy to topple he will be able to manipulate some poor souls to do the dirty work for him. Our cousin Richard is not the only one in England who longs to get at my throat. He could offer them to pave the way to me… Open a back door or bribing a guard. Becoming, once more, a hero and getting, finally, what he always wanted: Pemberley _and_ the Darcy name…"

Darcy took his own tea cup and sipped his now tepid beverage.

He could not agree but at his heart he knew that d'Arcy was right. Wickham would not relent before having tried everything to get Pemberley especially now that he knew he was the eldest Darcy son.

But that was not reason enough to have him killed just because he was going to be his usual snake.

He was innocent as long as he hadn't done anything!

He was guilty of gambling and cheating and seducing his own sister but he was not guilty of attempted murder. Not yet!

D'Arcy exhaled heavily.

"We will regret it but, today, I will accept your reasons. Let us both be honorable on this first day of our understanding. I'm sure Jane will love seeing me following your example and not the contrary."

The name of Jane brought a smile to Darcy's face.

"You took her away from my best friend…"

"No he neglected to pluck her when she was ripe to be his," countered d'Arcy. "I wouldn't have pursued her had she been married. But she was free when we met and I knew that very moment that there was the heart I've been longing for all my life."

Darcy couldn't help but laugh.

"And twelve days later you were marrying her. That's quite a record, isn't it?"

d'Arcy shrugged.

"Probably not," answered he. "But looking at the lousy way the other Darcy used to win her sister it could perhaps be considered as a record indeed."

Darcy made a face but said nothing.

As usual, d'Arcy was right. His had been a lousy way to win Elizabeth. Being honorable was not always a boon.

d'Arcy laughed at him.

"You should see your face, Fitzwilliam! As if you were swallowing a lemon." He laughed on and then, rather abruptly he stopped.

"Don't be too harsh with yourself. If took me ten years to loosen up. And I was following teachings to acquire diplomacy and social behavior. It drove my teacher crazy to see that I was unable to find pleasure in social gatherings and other stupidities."

He sighed once more.

"It seems that the Darcy strain comes without a diplomatic background. We have to work and work hard to be smiling and charming gentlemen. Perhaps with the infusion of Bennet blood it will no longer be so difficult?"

Darcy made a face.

"It's not true. Wickham has always been a charming and open young fellow."

"Proof that he is not a true Darcy," answered d'Arcy. "That's all. But let's forget about George Darcy to come back to these fantastic wives of ours…"

Darcy could only nod.

"Indeed, there's a point where we cannot help but agree. What would we be without them?"

d'Arcy shrugged.

"I refuse to contemplate a world without Jane at my side. She's the only thing that makes me different from all the other despots roaming the world. She's my conscience and my anchor to normalcy."

He laughed.

"Do you know the nickname my Irish are giving her?"

Darcy who knew nothing about Gaelic could only shake his head.

"Quewnach…" said d'Arcy. "Which could be translated as calmer or calming… They consider that I'm much less edgy with her than before. I do believe they quite like her. Even if she is English…"

Darcy looked at him with a faked surprise in his eyes.

"Haven't they understood that we are all French now?"

d'Arcy made a face.

"They are quite a stubborn race, these Irish," answered he. "And I do believe that they are not very satisfied with the way I neglected to punish you… They have grumbled quite often and rather loudly these last days… They would have liked me to deport quite a greater number of our English born citizens…"

Darcy looked his brother in the eyes.

"And why didn't you?"

"Because I never promised a thing on that matter! I promised them to free Ireland not to slaughter Englishmen. They would have liked both and now they are grumbling because they got neither."

He made a face and decided to come back to a more satisfying topic.

"But even if I'm calmer because of her, I'm unable to be with everybody as I am with her. She loves me while the others are afraid of me…"

"I'm not," said Fitzwilliam.

"Shows you the stubborn English lack of imagination. Should you take ten seconds to think about it, you would be scared to death…"

"Shows you the perfect English intellectual superiority," shot back Fitzwilliam. "I know that if you hurt me, my wife will be angry, speak to _your_ wife and as a result you'll have your first domestic row and be very unhappy…"

"Cowardly tactics…" puffed d'Arcy.

"Winning tactics! She's you're only foible and I will use it with no scruples at all!"

It was d'Arcy's turn to laugh. It was quite enjoyable to be able to speak and tease with his Darcy brother.

And it was, as everything he was receiving these last weeks because of Jane and her sister.

"What have we done to deserve them?"

Darcy shrugged.

"You have been patient and, unlike me, not _too_ foolish," answered he.

"What is wrong, Fitzwilliam? She finally said 'yes" and that's the only thing of importance in the matter. She's at your side and as I see it you're together for a very long time…"

"On that point I'll have no problem agreeing, d'Arcy. And as I see it you'll be burdened with her sister for the rest of your life…"

That statement brought a real seriousness to d'Arcy's face.

"Which could be much shorter than everybody believes," said he.

He stopped Fitzwilliam's incoming exclamation.

"Please let me speak."

He took a long and deep breath.

"As I said I have chosen a dangerous trade and it is possible that some of my enemies will be able to get to me at some point in the future. If such a thing should happen can I count on you to take in my wife and possible children?"

"Of course but you shouldn't…"

"I'm very proud," interrupted d'Arcy, "to always have a contingency plan ready if something I prepare should go in an unwanted direction. Of course I've done the same in case I should not live as long as I would like. I've created a trust for my wife and even without me she will have enough money to do what she wants. But I refuse to let her brood in loneliness and despair. She needs to be with loved ones and I've seen the joy she feels when with her sister. Can I count on you?"

"She's my sister and as such she will always be welcome in my home to stay as long as she wants…"

"I knew you would say these words but I had the need to hear them. I'll…" He hesitated. "I'll be less worried in case…"

Darcy stood up and reached for his brother's hand.

"You have my word but I'll ask the same from you. In case…"

A smile came to d'Arcy's face.

"You have my word but do you really believe that in this matter, I would have a choice?"

"No more than I would, for sure, but then which one of us would publicly confess that there are matters in our lives that are not completely under our strict tenet?"

d'Arcy could only nod.

"Which one, indeed…"


	15. Pemberley Spouses (Part 1)

Curiosities...

* * *

**Chapter fifteen: Pemberley Spouses (part one)**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Tuesday the twenty fourth August. Night.**

* * *

"How was it?"

d'Arcy looked at his wife and couldn't help but smile at her worried mein.

"We are both alive and the general consensus about our little talk was that it went well. Neither of us forgot to be the perfect gentlemen everybody expects us to be…"

His wife's eyes sparkled when she crouched at his side.

"I doubt anybody –_but me_– wants you to be a perfect gentleman! I…"

He hushed her with a kiss.

"You're the only person who counts, _mon amour_. All the others can think of me what they want I don't give a damn. But if you want me to be a perfect gentleman, than I'll do my best to be a perfect gentleman…"

He was rewarded with a fiery kiss but curiosity once more gained the upper hand.

"Was he surprised?"

He nodded.

"Yes and angered…"

Jane looked at him with surprise in her eyes.

"Angered? Why angered? Had you…"

"I did nothing, I swear. I was my perfect charming self and I even took great care to erase my ordinary Fitzwilliam smile to use the one I use when encountering your sisters or mother…"

She nodded. She was not sure it had been a good idea. Geoffrey's smile when encountering Lizzy or his other sisters was that of a seducing predator. Not sure that had been the message he should have conveyed!

She forced herself to listen to her husband's answer.

"…As tempted to throw me out of his study. I saw it in his eyes. But I suppose his wife's advice was stronger than his wish to throw me out. He finally offered me a seat and called for tea." He smiled. More to himself than for his wife since when he focused on her, his smile went through a radical change. From impish to loving…

"I do believe I still unnerve him. He was rather nervous facing me while we waited for the tea to arrive. He was trying to decide if he should avoid looking at me to be polite or enter into a staring contest to assert his authority. He couldn't make a decision and when the tea was served he asked me what he could do for me…"

He stopped there and a teasing little smile blossomed on his face.

"And?" insisted she.

She pulled him back and showed threatening teeth.

"Don't force me to pull each word out of your throat or I'll bite you remorselessly…"

He laughed at the threat. It was not an empty threat but it was useless in said situation.

"You know very well how it will end if you begin to bite me. You'll never get the end of the story."

She smiled at his smug air of haughtiness.

"We would just be interrupted. I'd come back to my questions just afterwards…"

He nodded while passing his fingers through her tussled hair.

"Of that I have no doubt, mon amour. Since you decided to marry me you seem to know exactly what you want."

She pouted at him.

"I always knew! But then I was not free to do what I wanted. My family was counting on me…"

He pulled her toward him and kissed her with passion.

"I swear that I'll do everything in my power to ensure you get what you want… Everything…"

She kissed him back and they were on the brink of entering other occupations when she became aware of his sparkling impish eyes.

She pulled herself free.

"You can't help manipulating me, can you?"

He made no effort to look repentant.

"You should know that if there's a reward in sight I'll do everything to get it…"

Jane stood up and moved to the bed's far end.

"I'll stay here until I know everything!"

"Ready to wager a little bet that you won't resist my allurements?"

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"I'm not so easily manipulated. You'll see. I'll use what you taught me to stay focused! I'll breathe and concentrate on what I want…"

"You always close your eyes when you focus! I'll crouch near you and stroke your face with the lightest loveliest kisses you can imagine. You'll not be able to resist!"

She jumped upon him with a snarl.

"I'll tickle you, then…" said she doing just that.

That threat brought a reaction. He was tremendously ticklish… with her.

"I surrender! I'll say everything…" said he through happy laughter. "Please!"

She stopped and backed out of his reach. Her eyes were laughing but her face showed only determination.

"I'm listening, sir!"

D'Arcy smiled at her and his eyes lost their focus.

He was recalling his memories.

"He called me brother… He forced himself to. It was then that I understood that your offensive was a double fronted one. You attacked me and your sister attacked him. I, of course, immediately confessed that I was there because you forced me…"

That brought a frown and the beginning of an attack. But Jane caught herself. Even through his closed eyes she could see the sparkles illuminating their bed's canopy.

She sighed and forced herself to stay still.

He sighed, opened his eyes and winked at her.

"Almost got you…"

She refused to answer and just sat still.

She knew she would, sooner or later, jump him. And then he would have his way. But not yet! Not yet!

He smiled and leaned back on the bed.

"I spoke of what we did last night and he confessed that he and your sister did the same. It seems that you were both hunting our little defects to get them out of the way of our marital bliss. Where did you find your knowledge? I would bet on your father. Seems to me the right source… He…"

She interrupted him with a pillow strike.

"Don't duck the issue, monsieur! You're going round in circles! I'm listening!"

He chuckled and relaxed.

"I apologized to him. For that little impish smile you seem all to associate with arrogance…"

"And it's not?"

"Of course not! It's my very own little greeting smile. I don't know how you could ever have begun to associate it with arrogance." He shook his head. "Because, I'm really not, I'm the…"

He got another pillow strike.

"I'm still armed and you got me again! You can't help it, can you?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"I love it when your cheeks are crimson and your eyes sparkle with mischief. I can't stop looking at the most beautiful woman I ever let myself love. You're my most beloved jewel…"

She rewarded the compliment with a kiss but soon went back to her position, pillow in her lap.

"Go on, I'm sure I know only a little part of what happened…"

He agreed and in two sneaky movements, he had his head lying on the pillow in her lap.

He winked at her.

"Much better…" He groaned. "A little kiss would be the best incentive for me to go on speaking…"

She gave him what he lusted for and once more she had to fight to sit up straight.

She caught his hands that were teasing her nipples.

"The story…"

He sighed and relaxed in her lap, his fingers entwining hers.

"He accepted my apologies. And then I spoke about myself. I explained my habit of being solitary. of never being able to trust anybody to survive, always looking behind me to be sure that the faces there were not familiar ones following me."

She felt that, this time, he was serious and that he was no longer trying to lure her into a little marital encounter. That would come, she knew it. He was becoming more and more melancholic and she knew exactly what he needed to come out of these bouts of sorrow. But it was also necessary that he spoke to her. He had spent twenty years hiding and suppressing his emotions, it was more than time to let them out.

"I've never had lots of friends. And those I had I lost because of enemies of mine. I soon decided to remain alone. Why risk the lives of loved ones when you are able to exist and prosper on your own?" He shook his head. "No alone was better for everybody and my little smile was the best way to stop all attempts to sneak into my heart."

He opened his eyes and pulled her hands to his lips and kissed them.

"You didn't sneak, you broke into my heart and you filled the emptiness I was not even aware having with your radiant soul." His eyes pierced through her and she knew he was speaking to a part of her he would never admit existed. "For the first time in my life I feel myself whole and complete. All those things I was doing to cease feeling that horrible void in my heart are no longer of interest to me. I'd gladly stop everything to be just a loving husband and a caring father…"

She brushed her lips against his.

"And you said that to Fitzwilliam Darcy? I'm beginning to feel jealous…"

He smiled at her mischief.

"No I just spoke about my will to never have friends again. To stop being responsible for others' deaths…"

He sighed.

"I believe then I confessed that I admired him and considered him the only honorable gentleman I ever encountered. And I'm very adamant that he is the only one I know. Even his cousin Fitzwilliam is no real gentleman. He's too much the military man for that. When you live following orders you cannot be a real gentleman."

He laughed.

"Of course he protested and looked for others but I'm sure he knows I spoke the truth. And he even knows that it's not Pemberley and his father's education that brought him to being the perfect gentleman. He had it in him and he just let it blossom…"

Jane shook her head.

"I even would bet that he doesn't consider himself a gentleman. He still is unable to overcome his initial spurning of Lizzy. Do you know that he declared that if she was tolerable; she was not handsome enough to tempt _him_; and that he was in no humor at that moment to give consequence to young ladies who were slighted by other men?"

She couldn't help it, but hearing his words brought back her indignation at Darcy's crime against her sister.

She could only look at her husband. "And Lizzy heard him say it?!"

He answered with a smile.

"If I remember well you were there, weren't you?"

She nodded her agreement and he held her fingers a little tighter.

"Then, he was just saying the truth! Elizabeth is a beauty on her own right, but compared to you, for a man's expert eye your sister is only tolerable, mon amour." He pulled her down toward him and went on whispering. "Even your rightful indignation cannot hide the truth. You're the most beautiful woman in all of England and you are mine, mine, mine!" He kissed her and he sensed that her indignation was receding. "That's why the moon is always discreet when in presence of the sun. She knows that she stands no chance!"

"Seducer…" whispered she.

"Proud husband" answered he and got another kiss for that particular compliment.

He exhaled lengthily and went back to his story.

"Than we spoke of Wickham as an example of the fact that even a father's love and education could not transform a rogue into a gentleman if said rogue was in his core more roguish than gentlemanish!"

He chuckled.

"And that's where I proposed to him to dispose of Wickham which he gentlemanly refused…"

She looked at her husband with a frown.

"Why would you want to kill Wickham? He was Darcy's father's son and he has rights of his own."

He let go of her hands and pulled her toward him while turning.

A second he was lying with his head in her lap and the next she was lying with her head in his lap.

"How do you manage these movements?"

"After twelve years of daily practice you'll be able to do the same, I promise," answered he. "Everything's possible if you practice enough."

He bent over and kissed her.

"And to answer your question, I know Wickham for what he is. He's no gentleman and he's not only a rogue but he's a dangerous and unscrupulous rogue who will never hesitate to strike to get what he wants… Even at innocent family members!"

Jane frowned.

"You knew him before?"

"I did! He was one of my… Let's say employees. It was he who gave me the intelligence I needed to get ashore in Brighton while every capable officer was dancing. That night Wickham was the officer responsible for the beach defense. He did a perfect job not doing his job. Not one of his sentries was where he would have seen us coming. We would have won in any case, but we would have paid dearly. Thanks to my Wickham brother we got ashore without losing a man…"

He sensed her tense and began to massage her shoulders.

"Don't let your indignation overcome you. We would have won in any case, I'm sure of it! I'm a much better strategist than all of your present generals and I had more men and better equipment! But my armies would have been much less relaxed afterwards if my soldiers would have lost comrades and friends. So they made no difficulties obeying my orders not to harass civilians. In the end his treason saved a lot of innocent English lives."

He stroked her brow and kissed her nose.

"Let's hope that he will accept what we are willing to give him. Personally I'm sure he will try to get at Fitzwilliam's estate and riches. In my opinion he's just unable to be content with what he'll get. He loathes Fitzwilliam because he is so much better than himself. Now that he has proof that they are half brothers his loathing will only increase. I fear that, at some point, he'll try to kill Fitzwilliam again…"

"Again?"

If he had not been holding her Jane would have sit up. He stopped her.

"Yes, he tried it a few years ago while they were at Cambridge together. He pushed him into a duel against a better swordsman. But Fitzwilliam was only injured. It's from that period on that Fitzwilliam decided to practice swordsmanship. And if my intelligence is accurate he's now one of the best. Wickham will have to find something else… I suppose Fitzwilliam's elimination while my armies were conquering England was one of the reasons Wickham proposed to work for us…"

"He proposed?"

"But only after we made ourselves known, mon amour. He did not make a trip to France to be enlisted. I was looking for well educated rogues and he was a perfect candidate. He immediately accepted and we paid his debts in Brighton. We needed him there to be our man in the dark…"

Jane couldn't help but spit her contempt at the man.

"I can't imagine he is Fitzwilliam's brother…"

"You can't really imagine how different brothers can be. And if you consider half brothers there are even more possibilities…"

He sighed.

"But then we spoke of Fitzwilliam himself and I was rather satisfied to launch a few piques at the way he fumbled his courtship with your sister. He was rather rattled about it… But since I felt myself very gentlemanly I didn't rub his nose in the fact that it's probably because of my successful invasion that he finally overcame his social prejudices to marry her."

He winked at his wife.

"You see I've been a perfect gentleman till the end…"

She made a face.

"You could have done without that last little attack."

He shook his head.

"No I couldn't! He was having a bad case of hero worship! I needed to remind him that I'm not a sympathetic big brother but an invader.

"Why? I'd love to see you act as brothers!"

"So would probably all his enemies, Wickham at the forefront! Must I remind you that we are not staying more than half a year in England? When we are gone Napoleon will send someone else to take England over and the difficulties will grow and my brother will be between the hammer and the anvil. The new French ruler will loathe him because of our parentage and the English people will hate him because of his perceived allegiances. We must give him the chance to be able to survive in England once the French are blown out of the country…"

His wife smiled her most charming smile at him.

"You could do as if…"

"I could, yes! Fitzwilliam never and so I'll go on arrogant and haughty and he'll go on pissed and angered! And in the end he'll come out of this mess without having lost too much." He shook his head. "I know it's difficult for you and Elizabeth but it's for the best. We can't afford Fitzwilliam being considered a man of mine. He would lose too much once we're gone…"

Jane accepted his decision but he could feel she wasn't happy.

Neither was he, but then life's not known for its fairness.

"Was there something else?" asked Jane after a few moments of heavy silence.

"Not quite, we spoke about our wives but that's a point I won't speak about and we also spoke about my Irish friends' impatience and anger…"

"Anger? Why would they be angered?"

He chuckled.

"They would like me to rush to Ireland in order to free their country. And I won't do it! I've other priorities and I'm sure Ireland will fall without even disembarking a soldier. If I manage to push the British out of America, Ireland will be their last large bridgehead in Europe. They will be unable to hold it with me as master of the seas. It would be a waste of men and resources. I won't do it and so my Irish friends will go on being angry and impatient for a few more months…"

He felt her tense and saw her pale.

"Won't they…" asked she.

"Of course they will," answered he. "They are Irish hot heads, remember? But I'll be prudent. They won't get at me. I promise. …"

She nodded and he bent over to kiss her.

This time he felt that she was ready for his love making. He did his very best to help her overcome her sadness.


	16. Pemberley Spouses (Part 2)

Curiosities...

* * *

**Chapter sixteen: Pemberley Spouses (part two)**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Tuesday the twenty fourth August. Night.**

* * *

"Something special today?"

Darcy looked at his wife and couldn't help but smile at her unconcerned mien.

"Special? No, not really. The usual routine. Estate management, a few audiences with my tenants and my brother's daily grand shows…"

His wife's eyes became narrow slits and she viewed her husband with a suspicious glare.

He laughed at her frown.

"Alright, he came and we spoke…"

Her mien became much more interested.

Her usual head tilt showed him that she was waiting for more details.

He shrugged.

"He came, we spoke, we shook hands and he returned shepherding his special guests…"

She made a face.

"Fine, for a summary! Now, about the details!"

He smiled and opened his arms. She was immediately there.

"It went well. He made an effort to look as a normal human being. Or rather I believe he stopped making an effort to look like a gutless monster…"

She looked him in the eyes.

"That's much more probable. Jane would never be in love with a gutless monster."

He shrugged.

"There I must surrender to your wisdom. I can't quite fathom the females of the species and you're the only one I wish to know a little better than not."

She hugged him.

"You're a bear, Fitzwilliam Darcy. When will you decide to become a charming gentleman like your brother?"

He shook his head and dived into the lavender marvel she called hair.

"Never, probably. Because he's only a charming gentleman with your sister and her family. Even with me he has difficulty being charming."

He chuckled.

"And, what's an even better reason, he confessed that he needed ten years worth of teachings to come out of his haughtiness. I'll make an effort but don't ask me to become a dandy over night."

She sighed.

"I ask nothing of the sort. I love you as you are. I now know that you're neither arrogant nor haughty. You're just the most adorable bear I have ever encountered and you're the best husband I could have dreamed of…"

He sniffed her hair lasciviously.

"Should I begin to fear something? There's that old saying about a wife making compliments and coming expenses…"

She puffed and shrugged off his statement.

"I don't need anything I don't already have. I have the most charming, rich, handsome and honest husband on the British Isles, my preferred sister is deliriously happy and my family has changed into something I wouldn't have dreamed of a few weeks ago." She shook her head and looked in her husband's eyes. He could see disbelief.

"Even Lydia is playing the role of a well behaved young lady! I cannot believe it. What happened to my family, Fitzwilliam?"

He chuckled.

"That's a question with an easy answer, dear. What happened to us? The d'Arcy happened to us, dear. It all came along with that brother of ours. It seems that he has wondrous effects on people…"

She looked her husband in the eyes.

"What wondrous effects has he had on you?"

He was silent. Indeed he had had effects on him too. And he soon knew what they were.

"He is my personal catalyst! He pushed me into acting. He pushed me to ask you to marry me. With him as an example there's no more time to ponder. You must act. There's no other way…" said he finally. "And what's more, he forces me to wonder about my life, my place in the world and my responsibilities within this world. I really believe he changed us all…"

Elizabeth tilted her head and smiled at her husband.

"Is that admiration I discern in your tone?"

He nodded.

"Of course it is! Who better than him to admire? He's as successful as Napoleon and he appears to be a very respectable human being. I'm dumbfounded when I think of his achievements! With such a d'Arcy around, what could be the use of that other Darcy?"

That was definately not what Elizabeth wanted her husband to say.

"You're fourteen years younger than he, Fitzwilliam. Let's see what your achievements will be in one and a half decades. Until then, I'm very satisfied with what Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy has already achieved. Even when forced to take over at an early age, he did well with his estate, he did well with his tenants, he did well with his sister and he, finally, did very well with that stubborn wife of his…"

He smiled at her.

"You're not stubborn…"

"Indeed I am, Fitzwilliam. Had we not met fortuitously at Pemberley three weeks ago, I would never have come back to you. So sure was I that I had destroyed all chances to ever see you again."

He shrugged.

"That's not stubborn! That's only realistic. Without this chance I would probably never had found the courage to come back and ask a second time…"

It was her turn to chuckle.

"You forget that brother of ours. He would have met Jane, would have courted her and would have married her. And if I have followed clearly everything he said, he would have married her here because here is his family's estate. We would have met again, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and we would have been family."

She smiled at him.

"Jane, knowing my true feelings for you, would have taken our story in her loving hands and we would, probably, be engaged now…"

She hugged him and smiled in his shirt.

"But I prefer how it happened. We were the first to love each other, we were the first to be engaged and we owe nothing to our brother…"

He rocked her against him.

"We owe him my sudden decision to ask you, dear. Without the invasion I would probably still ponder the pros and the cons of our marriage. When I heard of the invasion I knew that there was only one person I wanted at my side to overcome that dreadful event: and that person was you!"

She kissed his chest.

"We would have found to each other, I'm sure of it. Now that I know what it means to be loved by you, I'm quite sure that we were fated to be husband and wife. It could not have been otherwise. It was written…"

Fitzwilliam smiled while sniffing her perfume.

If it was written he would have preferred that the author of their lines had taken a more straight forward approach.

Why hadn't he just written that, when Bingley had asked him to dance with Elizabeth, he looked at her, was smitten by her fine eyes and had accepted? It would have been so much more satisfying and, at this precise moment, Jane would be in Charles arms and not in those other arms…

He sighed and forced himself out of these thoughts.

If it was written that Lizzy and he were to be husband and wife, it was probably also written that her sister and d'Arcy would be together. And to create a world where both their marriages could happen, it had been necessary for Fitzwilliam Darcy to spurn Elizabeth at the Meryton Assembly and to conspire to end Charles' love story with the delicious Jane Bennet…

And so, since it was written he was even less responsible and could find well formed excuses for everything he's done!

For a minute he tried to imagine what he should have done to be at Elizabeth's side while Jane and Charles had had the opportunity to live out their feelings.

Because now that he knew Jane better he could not ignore the fact that Jane Bennet had shown clear signs that she was in love with Charles Bingley. Mighty, haughty Fitzwilliam Darcy had just been unable to see said signs.

And being what he was he attributed his own experience to a stranger's mannerisms.

"What are you thinking of?" asked Elizabeth. "I hear your heart beat quicken. Are you angry?"

"With myself, dear, only with myself… I was reminding myself of the pretentious fool standing in his corner at the Meryton Assembly and letting his prejudice get in the way of his and his best friend's happiness. Had I…"

She stopped him with two fingers on his lips.

"Hush! We can't rebuild the past and you can't feel guilty for Charles's situation. He had his chance 'til London and the Palace. He could still have conquered her at their last meeting in London."

He bent backwards to look her in the eyes. She saw his surprise.

"She said it herself and Jane never lies, dear. At that point she had feelings for both men but Charles was her favorite still. He was so much more tame and gentle. She would have accepted him had he asked…"

"How so 'had he asked'? Why in heaven was he there if not to ask her?"

Elizabeth sighed and raised her left eyebrow.

"He was there to apologize, dear. He felt that after abandoning her in such an ungentlemanly fashion he owed her an apology. But in his heart he was already convinced he lost her. He did nothing to convince her of his love…"

She sighed anew.

"It was all she wanted. Just hearing that he still loved her would have been enough to relight or ignite or fan the flame which was slowly dying. But he said nothing of the sort. Just that he regretted the hurt he had caused… And then he turned and went away…"

A smile formed on Fitzwilliam's lips.

"Seems my best friend and I are both very big fools…" said he. "I would have sworn that nothing ever would be able to silence Charles Bingley. Love did it but at an inopportune moment…"

"For him," whispered Elizabeth while nodding. "For Jane, as it is for us, there's love, pleasure and satisfaction… And there's England and the Empire. I don't know why but I'm quite sure that with Jane at his side our conqueror is not quite as conquering as he could have been without her…"

It was Fitzwilliam's turn to make a face.

"And imagine his mood if she had chosen Charles and not him! Somebody would have paid. Of that I'm sure!"

Elizabeth nodded.

"There's no doubt there. He's a Janus in his own right. He can be the decent man we see at my sister's side or he can be the unscrupulous strategist who planned and mastered the conquest of Great Britain. I'm very glad Jane was at Rosings to lure the famous," she smiled at her husband, "d'Arcy decency to the forefront. God knows where we would be without her…"

"Fleeing on the Prince Regent's coattail?"

She shook her head.

"No, you wouldn't and I wouldn't have accepted to part from you. Not just before our marriage and never ever after… We would be just here and we would host a very unsympathetic and frustrated cousin of yours."

She tilted her head and moved her nose to remind him of her former question.

"Speaking of this cousin of yours, what else happened this morning?"

He hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

"We spoke like two gentlemen who had their wives pushing them toward each other in hopes a certain enmity would disappear…"

She made a face trying to convince him of her innocence.

"We did nothing of the sort, but has it?"

He chuckled and hugged her while feeling his love for her burning in his heart.

"As far as I can judge, it has, dear. Within the historical situation it's probably impossible for us to become friends, but there's a kind of mutual respect that seemed to surface between us that could be seen as a good beginning."

Fitzwilliam laughed aloud.

"He even apologized. I'm sure that was the most difficult part of our conversation… But he did it and I saw in his eyes that it was not a diplomatic lie. He felt it. He really was sorry about it…"

Fitzwilliam exhaled loudly and took his wife's hand and pulled her toward their bed.

"I believe that, before Jane, he was a very lonely man and he still doesn't know how to have normal relations with such unusual people as neighbors and cousins. He has the knack for commanding but normal conversation is a skill he never mastered…"

"Jane's begun to teach him. I'm sure that in a few years he will be almost a normal Darcy…"

"With 'almost' as a part of your sentence, I think I'll agree with you…"

He looked at her and put a stroking kiss on her nose.

"But dear could you explain to me what a normal Darcy is? Personally I don't know such a creature as a normal gentleman…"

She sniffed and forced him to lie at her side.

"Oh, I'm sorry I thought you knew. It's rather simple in fact, a normal Darcy is a loving, open hearted and kind gentleman who's always listening to his wife's wisdom and who is utterly convinced that he is the luckiest man of God's creation…"

He groaned and his groan got him a raised eyebrow.

"The part with the luckiest husband, I'll accept. But as for my wife's wisdom…"

"You would deny your wife's wisdom?"

"Indeed I would! Let me remind you of a few things she did that show an evident lack of wisdom…"

"Oh? Let's hear, dear husband…"

"First: you refused me at Rosings!"

"Indeed and it was the wisest decision I ever made. Had I not refused you, but accepted you for all the false and mercenary reasons every other woman would have thought of, we would never ever have been so happy as today…"

He sniffed and mulled over her answer. She was probably right. They both had to accept faults in themselves as well as in the other. Had she accepted immediately it would have brought much unhappiness to their life! He accepted his defeat on that particular point.

But he had others.

"You refused to marry Mr. Collins when wisdom would have clearly asked your sacrifice…"

That brought a silence to the room.

A very long silence that soon worried Fitzwilliam.

"Elizabeth? What's the matter? If I…"

"I'm thinking, dear," answered she in a subdued voice. "Between your first demand and our meeting at Pemberley I often asked myself if I should not have accepted Mr. Collins…"

"And?"

She climbed on him and shot him a fiery glance!

"Each time the answer was NO, NO and NO! I would have been much happier as a spinster or a governess than as the wife of foolish bootlicking Mr. Collins! Of that I'm quite sure. And had my mother forced me to marry him I'm sure I would have ended up somewhere in Australia. Either because I would have fled as soon as possible during the engagement or, if they had been able to bring me to the altar, after having pushed him into a pond and smothered him with his own self satisfaction…"

He looked at her decided air and knew that she would have done exactly that.

"Alright, the part of my wife's wisdom seems to be true after all… I have no choice than to listen to you. What is your advice dear?"

"Get rid of that jacket and help me to slip out of my dress…"

One of his rare smiles lit up the room.

"That is, indeed, the wisest advice I have received today…"


	17. Pemberley Dojo

Sporting matters...

* * *

**Chapter seventeen: Pemberley Dojo**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Wednesday the twenty fifth August. Afternoon.**

* * *

"Elizabeth!"

Everything stopped as if a magic spell had been cast.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward the door where Fitzwilliam Darcy was standing open mouthed, wide eyed and shocked beyond understanding.

"Nobody move," shouted Maureen. "Jane, don't loosen your hold. Let her find a way to free herself. She's been sloppy to let you get at her in that way. And sloppiness has a price in this business. Maintain her until I say otherwise. I'll manage the intruder…"

* * *

Maureen walked toward the door with a sly smile on her face. He didn't know it yet, but Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was just going to get his first lesson in Chinese Hand Combat. And if he was not nimble enough he was going to hurt quite a lot in the coming moments.

* * *

The first surprise overcome, Fitzwilliam felt his anger building.

What was his wife doing on the floor of this attic with her sister strangling her with what looked a very vicious and painful hold.

He had not the least doubt that his infamous cousin was behind everything and if what the wife of said cousin was doing was none of his affair, it was not the case with his own wife.

This masquerade would stop and it would stop immediately.

He pointed an accusing finger at the redhead coming toward him.

He was just on the brink of shouting when said redhead grasped his finger and made a very surprising move in front of him. She turned her back to him.

Why would she?

He got his answer even before ending his mental question and was very surprised to be lifted from the floor moving in a way he would never ever have tried by himself.

He was so caught off guard that during the flip he had no time to consider where he was going to land.

But land he did.

With a loud thump and a surprised groan.

Happily for him he had been relaxed from the beginning to the end of his flight and hadn't hurt more than his pride.

"First lesson," said Maureen. "Even an unarmed woman can be dangerous…"

He saw her appear in front of him and hold out a hand toward him.

Still quite surprised he grasped her and tried to lift himself from the floor.

A second later he was lying on his belly with his arm behind his back and a knee blocking his neck.

"Second lesson," said Maureen with a deceptively casual voice denied by her sparkling eyes, "Once a foe, always a foe. Never trust someone who has already hit you even if his gestures could be misconstrued as friendly…"

A voice coming from the door stopped her next attempt to teach Fitzwilliam Darcy another truth of combat.

"I'll take it from there, Maureen! I'm sure Mr. Darcy understands the gist of your teaching. Let's get to the next part of the lesson…"

* * *

Geoffrey d'Arcy was very proud of his intelligence network and a few minutes after his cousin was seen walking toward the house where Jane and her sister where training he was informed and running after him.

He was just arriving at the attic's landing when he heard Fitzwilliam's surprised –and shocked– outcry. He ran the last few yards hoping to be in time to defuse his cousin's anger.

He should have known that Maureen would take advantage of the situation.

He arrived just in time to witness his cousin's first flight –_nice one_ _indeed_– and crash landing –_not quite so nice and probably rather painful_–.

* * *

Jane was quite satisfied when Maureen called out.

"Sensei" was the magic word that stopped all activities in the dojo to signal the pupils bow in salute of the master.

She let go her hold on Lizzy's throat and stood up to bow before the master's arrival.

He did the same and gave the command to sit in a row to receive his teachings.

She glanced at Lizzy and was rather surprised to see her smile and countenance. She would have bet on her being mortified to have been surprised while training.

* * *

But Elizabeth was much more relieved than mortified. She had chosen to follow Jane in her training sessions but, because she knew Fitzwilliam would have forbidden it, she had kept the secret. And keeping a secret from her beloved Fitzwilliam had been a very difficult task, indeed.

Now it was out in the open and she was relieved of an enormous weight. Even if he forbade her to go on it would be lighter for her than perpetuating the lie.

* * *

Finally he came in sight with his little smile adorning his lips.

"Glad you could come to help me for this demonstration, Fitzwilliam. Sorry for the little foreplay but I do believe it gave you a right idea of what somebody who is schooled in eastern combat techniques is able to…"

He held out his hand toward Fitzwilliam who took it without the least visible hesitation.

"Welcome to our little training session."

d'Arcy turned toward his three pupils.

"Today, thanks to Fitzwilliam's science in sword handling we will teach you how to escape a sword that is coming toward you…"

He pointed at his cousin and himself.

"As you see, we will perform in normal clothes as if it would happen to us in normal life. At one time in your training you'll have to perform this training while wearing normal formal dresses. In order to get the right sensations it will be necessary but for now and for the next lessons, I want you to go on wearing your "hakama". It will be much easier for you to feel your movements…"

He bowed toward his pupils and then toward the newcomer.

He made a gesture toward the door and one of his aides appeared holding a few swords.

"Please choose a sword… these are training swords and normal fighting swords. You can take whichever you want, it doesn't matter…"

Geoffrey was rather satisfied when his cousin chose a training sword. He knew he couldn't hit him but the gesture would have been a sad one had he taken a fighting sword.

Both men looked each other in the eyes.

d'Arcy could see his cousin's ire and Darcy recognized Geoffrey's desire to quench said ire.

d'Arcy placed himself at three yards and faced Fitzwilliam.

"Let's assume that you want me dead, Mr. Darcy. Please use your sword in the best way you believe could achieve said purpose…"

Fitzwilliam inhaled a last time. Placed his feet in the right position and attacked with a thrusting blow at his cousin's heart. With a training sword he would hurt him but nothing definite would have hap…

One moment he was aiming at his cousin's breast, the next he was tumbling forward, Geoffrey's hand grasping his sword hand and feeling that his whole body was losing its sense of balance.

"At this point," d'Arcy was saying in a casual voice. "_I_ have a choice, ladies that you won't have. I can use Fitzwilliam's own sword to kill him or I can just disarm him. You will learn to disarm because you don't have the body strength to rip the sword out of your opponent's fingers, push him forward and kill him with a backstab…"

He let Fitzwilliam's hand go and supported him with a little rotation of his chest.

"Could we do it again, Fitzwilliam. This time, I'll disarm you and backstab you…" A smile came to his lips while looking at Jane. "Only for show, I promise…"

Fitzwilliam took his place facing d'Arcy and could not help but shake his head.

"And you really believe that I'll let you do? Now that I'm forewarned? You're crazy!"

Geoffrey just shrugged.

"We'll see … Let's do it!"

He bowed toward Darcy and just stood.

Fitzwilliam took a long breath and attacked.

And this time he found himself kneeling with his own sword blade on his throat and Geoffrey holding him with a knee firmly imbedded in the narrow of his back…

"You tried to cheat, Fitzwilliam," whispered Geoffrey at his ear. "You never intended to hit me while I was standing but you aimed at the place I would be after I dodged. But I saw you coming… Could we do it the normal way, please?"

Begrudgingly Fitzwilliam nodded.

Geoffrey immediately stood up and looked toward his pupils.

"As you just saw, Fitzwilliam tried to prevent my dodge by aiming at his right. I went under his blade, pulled him forward while I tripped him forcing him to his knees and bringing his blade to his throat while he still held it. A real opponent would be dead, throat cut by his own blade. But that was a difficult move! I could have chosen a much simpler one. I could have opened to the left and he would never even have brushed me with his sword but that would have been what my masters would have called an _empty_ movement since we would just have moved at other places to find each other facing anew."

He pouted.

"You must know that this school of martial art does impress on its pupils that a fight must be won in one or two strokes. Speed is of the essence! But, that's not what I ask you to do if it should happen. I just want you to get out of harm's way. No fancy movements! Just rely on what you know best! Get out of the way of the sword. Let's hope that your opponent has not been able to eliminate all your body guards and that they are still able to intervene on your behalf in the next moment. You don't need to defeat your opponent you just need to stay alive until I, Fitzwilliam, Maureen or any other of your guards can come and take out your attacker." He looked at both sisters and more precisely at his wife. "I know you want to do it the most impressive way to show me and Fitzwilliam that you are able to defend yourselves. But let us be what we are born to be: your protectors. Just stay alive! That's the only thing you must concentrate on. Just stay alive to give us or others the time to deal with your opponent…"

He looked at Fitzwilliam and was pleased to see that he was agreeing.

"Let's do it again, Fitzwilliam!" said he just loud enough that only his cousin could hear him. "And this time, please aim at my heart and don't try to outsmart me. We are teaching these ladies how to survive should we have been sloppy in our protectors' tasks! We are not trying to decide which of us is the best! And I really hope that we never will have to…"

They took their places and this time Fitzwilliam aimed at the heart and was in the same position as the first time.

Immediately d'Arcy let him free and invited him to do it once more.

This time Geoffrey didn't move and just clapped his hands around the blade and held it in place.

Fitzwilliam was impressed. He could have hit a wall for all he felt.

"Please ladies, approach…"

Jane was immediately at his side soon followed by Elizabeth and Maureen.

Fitzwilliam's blade had been stopped at only a fraction of an inch from Geoffrey's coat.

"As you see, Fitzwilliam aimed exactly to pierce my skin and go through to my heart. There are very few swordsmen who are as accurate. And this accuracy will be a real advantage in your training sessions since he knows exactly where his blade will strike."

He released the sword and moved back a pace.

"Please ladies stay!" He looked at his cousin and was satisfied to see that no protest was uttered. "Fitzwilliam, please once more but in slow motion and this time I'll just stand still…"

And once more Fitzwilliam's blade came to exactly the right spot to kill his opponent with one strike.

"Another one at slow motion but please don't stop your attack…"

And Fitzwilliam went back and made a new slow motion attack.

This time Geoffrey just turned from the waist up and let his right foot slide back.

Fitzwilliam's sword just slid past Geoffrey's chest.

"As you see there's no effort involved. You just have to move out of his way. Nothing more! Just turn and step back. Turning could be enough but one pace backwards gives you an overture to strike at his sword hand."

He smiled at Fitzwilliam.

"Another slow one, please…"

And Fitzwilliam complied.

* * *

An hour later both their wives had the theoretical knowledge to dodge cutting and thrusting sword blows and Elizabeth had even been able to disarm her husband twice.

It was very difficult to determine which of the Darcys was prouder.

And all the while Fitzwilliam had shown himself a willing and interested sparring partner.

* * *

"You were great…"

"Indeed," answered Geoffrey while pulling his wife into a tight embrace. "That was a well-mastered crisis…"

"Did you know that he would come?"

"I was not sure but I spread a few rumors yesterday about what you were doing in that attic. I was sure he could not resist very long before looking for himself."

He smiled at his wife.

"And the second he decided to move I was informed. I'm quite satisfied with the speed an old man like me is still able to…"

He stopped to howl under her vicious bite.

"Stop it immediately! I won't accept another of your bouts about your age! One could believe you do it on purpose."

"I do everything on purpose, _mon amour_. You know very well that our marriage was the only thing I didn't do on purpose for a very long time…"

That earned him a kiss and soon there was no more room for chatting.

* * *

"Can you forgive me?"

Fitzwilliam sighed and looked at his wife with a satisfied smile.

"There's nothing to forgive. You confessed that you were learning a new exotic dance… And one could consider that since you are learning moves and turns it is, in a certain fashion, a dance. So it was not really a lie. Let's say it was just a little embellishment of the truth. Nothing I can't forgive…"

He turned and looked at her.

"But why did you believe that it needed said embellishment?"

She frowned at his words.

"I'm learning how to fight, dear! What could be more unseemly than that for the mistress of Pemberley?"

"You're learning to survive, dear! Don't confuse the two. He hammered in the difference you with each of his sentences. You're not learning how to defeat your opponents, you're learning to stay alive just long enough to let us, your Protectors, come and rescue you!"

She sniffed.

"That part, you like very much, don't you? Perhaps one day it will be us who will come to your rescue…"

He smiled at her.

"I hope it will never be necessary, dear, but I know that should it happen, you'd come to my rescue!"

She jumped him and looked into his eyes.

"You do really?"

"Sure, I do… With me somewhere in danger there would be nobody left to stop you…"

She looked at him and what he saw was proof enough that the day he decided to marry her had been a day of utmost sanity!


	18. London Preparations

Darcy and Darcy and d'Arcy...

* * *

**Chapter eighteen: London preparations**

* * *

**London, Thursday the twenty sixth August. **

* * *

"Satisfied?"

George Darcy smiled his most charming smile to Bronson from Bronson, Bronson and Bronson Tailors on Bond Street. The tailor smiled back.

How could he not be satisfied?

The jacket was fitting perfectly and everything else was astonishingly "Darcylike".

He looked at his image and winked at himself.

Darcylike as it should be in this new world of his. In the world were George Wickham was nothing other than an ugly reminder of failures past.

George Darcy! Finally! After all these years! He had always known that he was a Darcy. Perhaps not consciously but deep inside he had known. And now he had received proof.

He nodded once more to the family tailor and looked him in the eyes.

"I'll take it and confirm my other orders. I'll need that whole new wardrobe very soon now. When can you deliver?"

The tailor smiled back.

"Within a week we could deliver it to your town house…"

"That's quite satisfactory. Please do!"

He opened his wallet and put two hundred francs notes on the table. Most of the prices were still uttered in pounds but the "francs notes" were an accepted currency everywhere in London.

The notes disappeared immediately and he was thanked by a very deep bow.

Being able to pay cash was a very intimate [decadent?] pleasure, indeed! And a pleasure he was using lavishly since the news sent by the d'Arcy attorney.

Thanks to d'Arcy, who had sent him five hundred of those hundred francs notes, he was quite free to spend as he liked. It had been a token of d'Arcy's acceptance of Wickham into the family and a reminder that he would not take kindly any further debt from a member of his family.

As he had written it he would cover the debts of family members but in his case it would be just before paying the undertaker's bill.

And knowing d'Arcy George knew that he was no man to utter empty threats.

But then with his current pocket money and his access to the Darcy Townhouse there were any number of expenses he could cover by just letting his suppliers send the bill to Grosvenor Street. Darcy would pay there was no doubt in George's mind. He had always paid in the past and now that they were proven brothers he would pay with even more alacrity. If he was able to restrict his needs to the normal spending of a very rich gentleman, he would be able to live on his brother's purse for quite a long time.

And that he could do easily if he could just restrict his [I don't think George believes he needs to stop-addicts generally don't] gambling.

He knew it would be difficult but not as difficult as dying…

For the first time in many years George _Darcy_ was a rich and considered man in London. He had even, thanks to his new brother's extraordinary organization and identity papers found access to the Darcy town House. The butler had looked at his papers, smiled and bowed over his entrance. As a matter of fact George Darcy was, on this the 26th of August, a very satisfied customer.

"I'll be back tomorrow and the day after for the last fittings… Then, I'll probably do as my brother and let you select a new item for my wardrobe each week…"

The tailor bowed once more.

He could see that he was very much appreciated.

"We will deliver your items once a week, Sir. Do you have a preference for a day?"

"Not the same day as Fitzwilliam's, please. We have not the same taste in clothes. Please let's try not to make blunders in mixing our wardrobes. Neither he nor I would like it…"

"I propose Tuesday, then! Normally we deliver Mr. Darcy's wardrobe on Thursday."

"Tuesday will be perfect, Bronson. Just perfect…"

With a last bow he took his walking stick and his hat and proceeded to his next supplier.

* * *

"Bowder…" said George while giving his hat, gloves and stick to the butler. "Do we have news?"

The butler shook his head.

"No sir, no news from anywhere. The master and his wife will be staying at Pemberley for a few more weeks, I suppose. He was never a great fan of Town in the past. Now that he is married to a wife from the country I so fear that he will even be more scarce in Town. London is secured but with most of the Gentlemen and Ladies out of Town there won't be much of a social life for a long period… I fear we'll have to wait the return of monsieur d'Arcy to see a renewal of the season in London. Probably around the end of September…"

The first time Bowder has spoken of the _master_ Wickham had reacted with a hidden smirk. But now he was –_quite_– accustomed. For Bowder and the staff Fitzwilliam was the master and his wife the mistress. Nothing save their death could change that. So he would have to wait.

A little longer…

"I'll be in my study, Bowder. Please send me tea in an hours time. And, please, we won't accept callers today. Excuse me to them but I have a lot of work to do…"

"As you wish sir!"

With a last bow, Bowder turned around and walked out of George's sight.

* * *

George Darcy took a long breath of air.

He was here at Grosvenor Square and he was an accepted member of the household. He was not the Master, not yet, but he could come and go and nobody asked him about his whereabouts.

Quite a satisfying new situation.  
Not enough, but much better than one month before.

He bit his lips and looked at what had to be done.

First thing, d'Arcy had to disappear. He was a threat on more than one level.

He was the only one who knew about his little treason. He couldn't take the risk that, someday, he would tell somebody. [the sheer audacity of Wickham! Ugh how I loathe him!]

It was not really his place to tell, but he was married now and pillow talk was a very dangerous activity for those who, like him, had a few skeletons in the closet.

And then there was that other threat. He liked Fitzwilliam. And he would never accept his brother's demise without launching an inquiry. And he would find the real culprit behind the scene.

So he had to go and he had to go first.

Alive, d'Arcy would never allow George Darcy to get his legitimate inheritance or birthright. But killing d'Arcy would not be easy.

It would not be impossible but it would not be easy.  
And dangerous.

And it would even be more difficult since he could not afford to be suspected.

He had thought about a way to dispose of d'Arcy since he had gotten the news of his integration into the Darcy family. He had thought about it before but it was more of an intellectual challenge. Now, now, it was very different.

Everything depended on his success. And he really needed to take the time to succeed.

He was determined to be the Master of Pemberley. Nothing more and nothing less. But to get back his legitimate property he needed d'Arcy dead.

And he needed him dead before his dear wife Jane could give him an heir.

So he had to hurry but within certain safety limits.

Because the second d'Arcy got wind of his little plot he was dead.

That was why he never ever wrote a word of what he wanted to do.

And until he knew exactly what to do, he would speak to nobody about his project.

Too risky. Much too risky!

With d'Arcy dead the properties would probably revert to Fitzwilliam. And then, if Fitzwilliam could have the good grace to die without an heir, George had his chance.

But there was Georgiana who was probably in a better position to get the Darcy estates.

He sighed. He was trying; God knew that he would have preferred doing it as calmly as possible. But each time he thought of the future of the Darcy family, there was no real alternative to a massive "Darcy" bloodshed.

But he had a few ideas of how to organize _that_ bloodshed without doing it himself. It wouldn't be easy but it would be rewarding or satisfying or gratifying to organize.

He already had a good idea how to launch everything.

But to do that he needed to be in contact with a few real hard case freedom fighters in order to give them the intelligence necessary to launch their first strike.

He smiled and went to the mirror he had placed next to the door.

Yes, with his new wardrobe, he was even more Darcyesque than before. His stature and pose were not yet perfect but he was perfecting it. He needed a few more weeks to perfect everything and it seemed that his brother was just giving him the time he needed to be ready.

"Indeed, dear brother," said he in the strikingly perfect imitation of Fitzwilliam Darcy he had created while they were both at Cambridge, "You don't know it now but you are the next hero of the British Resistance. The British people will worship you for the decades to come, Brother. Sorry that you won't be there to reap the fruits of your courageous actions…"

He smiled to himself.

"I'm even sure that we will be able to convince all those grateful people to finance a Foundation to remind the whole Kingdom of the sacrifices the Darcy family was willing to pay to free its country." He chuckled. "You can be sure that I'll never ever let them forget your deeds, dear brother. And that I'll look after our properties as if they were mine! Which, at that particular point of our family history, they should be…"

He returned to his real voice and sighed.

His brothers' honeymoons were buying him the time necessary to do what was needed to succeed but he must do it without being seen or even suspected.

His burglar friends had already found a few newcomers in London's East side that looked suspiciously like members of the Gentry who were hiding.

A few preliminary contacts had shown that they were everything but experienced.

They were too young, too arrogant and way too inexperienced. Without his help they wouldn't even have found weapons to arm themselves.

But that was a problem he, thanks to his former job as a traitor in league with the French invader, could solve very easily. He had weapon caches in three different places in London, in Kent and in Oxford shire. And the weapons there were the best that Britain could provide. Nobody would be able to trace them to him.

Not if d'Arcy was already dead.

But even with weapons, his freedom fighters were nothing more than bloody amateurs. Probably not good enough to even reach Pemberley without being spotted and captured.

He needed to train them. And he had already a few ideas about the very person who could start said training.

He wouldn't be cheap but he would do as asked without wondering about the real reason behind the job. He would guess but he would not talk about it.

And with two weeks devoted to the effort, he could probably give them enough training to insure their arrival inside Pemberley. He knew every square inch of the estate. He even knew of secret passages that Fitzwilliam did not know existed. If they followed his instructions, they would be able to reach their target without being spotted.

With the target in sight they would do what was necessary and that would be probably rather loud and ugly.

With so many guards swarming towards the source of the noise.

Too many guards for them to get out!

But then he really didn't want them to succeed, did he? He wanted them to do his dirty work and then die. Preferably without having talked to anybody outside their little group.

He would go to the Eastside this very night and hire their coach. Then he would have to make contact.

That would be the most difficult part of his plan. Once contact was established and his leadership role accepted the rest would be so much easier.

He sighed once more and walked to his desk.

He had a letter to write.

A very difficult letter, but also the first gesture or move or step to what could be seen as his redemption.

* * *

Two hours later he was signing his first letter as George Darcy.

And the addressee was none other than his sister.

He smiled and reread it a last time.

_Dear Georgiana, dear sister…_

_I'm not sure if our brother has broken the news to you and that is why this letter will be included in a letter I've sent to Fitzwilliam. He will be sole judgeas to the time you receive this letter. And he will have read it since what I have to say is neither secret nor untoward._

_I wanted you to forgive me, sister. Not knowing our real relations I mistook brotherly love for another feeling and I'm now very happy that Fitzwilliam came in time to stop what would have been a catastrophe for us both._

_But there is no longer reason for me to hide the feelings I have for you. Even if with Fitzwilliam life was always a competition and, I must confess it, jealousy that ruled my heart it was never so with you. As was father, you were always kind to me and I always liked you very much. I now know that deep in my heart I knew that you were very special to me and that I had to grant you all the protection I could provide._

_Sadly our father's reserve in telling us the truth gave me reasons to be misled by said feelings. _

_What I said then in Ramsgate was not true but only because I had no idea that it was brotherly love that burned in my heart._

_I won't play the role of a white Knight, Georgiana. Money and revenge were motivating me too. _

_I was sure of my feelings for you but, and it's not easy for me to confess, the fact that I could take my revenge on our brother and get my hands on your dowry were also a part of my motivation._

_But then you probably know by now that I never was a model of virtue and good behavior. I'm a gambler and I'm a man who likes seducing women. And I did my share of both these activities while I was at Cambridge with Fitzwilliam._

_And, last confession, I often took his name and mannerisms to hide behind him._

_I'm not a good man, Georgiana. But I'm no monster either. I do believe that most of what I did was motivated by the impression that I was treated unjustly by Fitzwilliam. I'm now officially your brother and I wear now with pride the name Darcy. _

_I will do what is in my power to redeem myself in your eyes and to act as loyally and righteously or respectful as Fitzwilliam. It will not be easy, I have many bad habits and even more bad tendencies. But thanks to our d'Arcy brother I'm rich and I have the means to live the life of a gentleman without having to gamble and to cheat._

_You have my promise that I'll try very hard not to go back to my former life._

_I'm now a Darcy and I'm your brother. I hope that what I did to you can be forgiven and that one day you'll be able to welcome me in your own home._

_I know that between Fitzwilliam and I there is a lot of bad blood and that I will probably never find an invitation to my beloved Pemberley but that is alright. I made many mistakes and I must pay for them. If you agree to forgive me, please write to me and give me news of you, the family and the estate. I long for them. _

_Last but not least, I'm sure that Jane and Elizabeth played a major role in my rehabilitation and acceptation into the family. Please let them know that I'm very proud to be part of the same family as they._

_Yours, etc,_

_George Wickham Darcy_

Yes, that was exactly the right tone.

_He will read it to Elizabeth and she will be my ally and let Georgiana read it! And, what's even better she will answer. I'm sure of it! And then, I'll learn everything I need to know about d'Arcy's whereabouts at Pemberley_.

He smiled a last time and took another piece of paper.

* * *

_Mr. Darcy_

_I include hereby a letter for our sister._

_I would like you to hand it to her but I could understand if you would refuse._

_We will probably never be friends as we once were but we could cease to be enemies._

_And, even if you don't believe me, I love Georgiana…_

_Yours, etc,_

_George Wickham Darcy_

* * *

He liked that letter even better. Proud, but conscious of the reality of his relationship with Fitzwilliam. His brother would hesitate but he would frown and wander around. And his wife would be interested and he would show her both letters.

And it would be in Elizabeth Darcy's hands.

And he didn't doubt a second that kind Lizzy would give him entrance to Georgiana's heart.


	19. Pemberley Encounter

Spouse and Consort...

* * *

**Chapter nineteen: Pemberley encounters**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Friday the twenty seventh August. **

* * *

"_Madame la Comtesse_…"

Jane looked rather surprised when the Honorable Angus MacQueen chose to address her in such elevated terms.

"Mrs. d'Arcy is quite enough, my lord," said she while curtsying to the Scottish envoy. "I'm not much more than the daughter of Edward Bennet gentleman farmer from Hertfordshire…"

"Your modesty honors you, _madame_ but the facts are the facts and since your marriage you're much more than just Mr. Bennet's daughter. You're an important character of Great Britain's current history."

She laughed at what seemed a flowery exaggeration.

"I'm only a woman, my lord. The sole women who were important characters in Britain's History have been Queens and even if some people do believe that Geoffrey is –at this moment– equal to a King, which I don't believe, I'm only his consort and I have no intention of ever playing the role of the _eminence grise_ behind the throne…"

He smiled at her.

"Don't underestimate your importance. You're at his side and I'm sure he listens to you when you approach him with delicate problems…"

She nodded her agreement.

"He probably would, I agree. He seems to listen to my advice when I deem it necessary to speak to him!"

"I had no doubt that this would be the case, _madame_."

Jane couldn't conceal a frown.

Lord MacQueen saw it and came closer.

"You are wondering the reason for my being here and speaking with you, am I right?"

"I must confess that I'm beginning to wonder, yes… Would it be that you have something to ask me?"

He nodded and looked around them before pointing toward a group of armchairs standing in the shadow of an oak.

"Could we please sit for a few moments? What I want to discuss is rather delicate and it could take a little time to reveal the entirety of the problem."

Jane agreed and walked to the half dozen garden chairs awaiting guests in Pemberley's park.

Lord MacQueen helped her sit and took a seat just opposite.

"So there is a delicate problem you want to tell me about, my Lord?"

"Indeed, _madame_, there is a delicate problem and we, the delegates of Scotland and Wales believe that you could perhaps be our spokesperson in this matter…"

She looked up and carefully studied the man. They had been introduced the day he arrived and they had spoken twice or thrice during official dinners where she had placed herself in order to be able to speak with as many persons as possible. She knew that her husband was not the most gracious host and she had done what was in her power to smooth the social parts of their sojourn. Very soon Angus MacQueen has been the most declared supporter of Scottish and Welsh independency. It was quite clear that he was in favor of Scottish independence a long time before the French came ashore.

He was forty-four or forty-five years old. Black haired and brown eyed and with a wide waist that belied his other athletic features. She could clearly imagine him tossing boulders around.

He was married to the daughter of an industrialist and rather outspoken about the chance d'Arcy was giving Scotland to become a new an independent Kingdom.

Never had they spoken about something else than very trivial subjects.

He sighed and leaned forward.

Maureen came nearer behind him.

"We would like you to intercede on behalf of the members of the English Gentry your husband wants to force to become settlers in Louisiana."

Jane gave herself a few seconds before answering. That was one of the only subjects she could not speak freely about with her husband. She had tried to make him change his mind. After all they were –for the most part– honorable gentlemen who did not really deserve to be incarcerated and then deported to a foreign and –from all she had heard– unhealthy country.

She sighed.

"I fear that's a subject where I already know that I'll have no influence. I already spoke to him on that subject. More than once, if you must know. And each time he refused to listen to my demands. He was rather adamant that he would not let them go home. He believes that if authorized to go home they would stir up unrest in the English …"

Lord MacQueen sat straighter and smiled at her.

"I was sure you'd have done something like that and I'm very glad to see that you are as compassionate as you are charming. But we could, perhaps, give your husband another possibility that would –for the majority– give him real guarantees."

"Guarantees, my Lord?"

"Guarantees, _madame_, because we don't ask him to let them go home, we ask him to let them come to us."

"To you?"

"To us, yes! We all agree that we would welcome them in Scotland and in Wales. As you know probably from your own families, most of the members of English, Scottish and Welsh Gentry have parents in all parts of our Kingdoms and it would be a sign of greatness to grant them the sanctuary of their extended families."

Jane nodded. Geoffrey could probably accept that particular arrangement.

"They would be only a few dozen miles from English territory. Do you really believe they would resist the temptation to come back?"

"They would have to swear to remaining with us and never to try to go home without authorization from the French authorities," said Lord MacQueen.

He nodded to himself.

"Of course there will be some hotheads who will break their word and come back. It's always so. And we are conscious that it will be these same hotheads who are going to try to stir up unrest in England when they have returned. But I'm quite sure that they would have tried to escape even from Louisiana. And a two month crossing would not have stopped them…"

"Probably not," agreed Jane. "But then, there's a difference between a two months and a two days trip to come home."

MacQueen nodded.

"Certainly, but most of the gentlemen will stay put, I'm sure of it. And we will ask that they swear to us and not only to the French authorities. We hope it will lessen the level of oathbreaking because we are sure that most of the gentlemen will respect this oath."

He looked Jane directly in the eyes.

"And we, the welcoming Kingdoms, would take all civilized measures necessary to guarantee their remaining on our soil."

Jane saw that he was being serious and that the question was an important one for him.

"Why are you so adamant on that question, my Lord?"

He shot her an uneasy smile.

"Most of us are not very proud of what we are doing, _madame_. We know that what we have just negotiated will be severely judged by a great many historians. We know that we are weakening the chances of a resurrection of the United Kingdom and that we are, even more probably, giving a death stroke to what could have been soon the British Empire."

He sighed and his little smile disappeared.

"But that doesn't mean that we had a choice. We were cornered and when given a choice between independence and submission we all knew that we had no real choice. We will be branded traitors and heroes at the same time. For a few of us life will probably soon end under the blade of an upset patriot. But that doesn't mean that we could have done anything else."

He exhaled deeply.

"I know that the situation in England is calm and that there have been no uprisings or riots. But England is nevertheless under French rule and is no longer an independent country. Scotland and Wales were given the chance to avoid seeing foreign troops occupy their territories and what's even better –in my opinion–, they have the chance to revert to their own sovereignty. That's what I dreamed of for years and that's worth what could be considered as a little betrayal for most of us…"

He looked at her and the smile was back.

"It would be much better seen by our people if we would have been able to play an important role in the liberation of our friends and cousins. It won't exonerate us from all our faults but it would help most of us feel better about this whole business…"

It was Jane's turn to sigh. Of curse she would ask Geoffrey. Of course she would plead –once more– the cause of the English Gentry and this time it could even be that he would listen.

Perhaps…

"What about their spouses and families? For those who chose to stay, Geoffrey guaranteed their safety. Would they have to quit England?"

"Only those who would choose to, _madame_. We agreed that the borders between French England and our Kingdoms would remain as open as possible. We will be independent countries but we will also be allied with France. Not in a military sense –we fought a long battle to be exonerated of that particular sin– but in every other dealing we will work and collaborate with our neighboring country. So we could welcome the coming of the families of our guests as often as necessary."

Jane nodded.

"I'll ask him. I won't make a promise but I'll ask him to consider your new proposition. I'll do what is in my power to convince him."

His smile increased.

"We can ask for nothing more and we couldn't have found a better ally in this matter. If you are unable to convince him nobody could…"

She thanked him for the compliment with a smile.

"I tried before and it taught me that I don't always have the possibility to influence him."

He smiled back.

"But you're the only one who has a slight chance to do it. He doesn't look at you like he looks at us. We are prey, you are his equal. He will listen to you. Us, he will only try to manipulate." His smile became more impish. "And as a master manipulator myself I can recognize a master when I encounter one…"

Jane frowned.

"Are you suggesting that you just manipulated me?"

"Of course, I did, _madame_. I played to your compassion and your love for England and the British Isles. He's a foreigner and you are our key to his heart, I couldn't fail to make a try in that direction…"

"Don't you fear your confession could upset me?"

"I don't think so, _madame_. You're no fool and you probably are very conscious that in your position there will always be people who will come to you in order to get some advantage. I'm only one of the first and I'm pleading a cause you already chose to defend. And even if you'd be upset with me I'm sure you won't make all these gentlemen pay for my presumptuousness."

Jane's smile was back.

"You're right. I won't be upset. Your cause is my cause after all and even if you have –_as I suspect_– personal interests in this matter it does not lessen the value of the cause we both defend. I'll speak to Geoffrey and I'll do my best to get them freed. But, as said, I can't promise one outcome or the other. He can, sometimes, be a very stubborn man."

Lord MacQueen stood up and bowed.

"As I said I'm sure he will listen and thinking of who's going to make a decision, I'm sure that you are the best advocate, ever…"

* * *

When he was out of hearing Maureen spat.

"Let them rot in Louisiana, they deserve nothing else…"

"Aren't we a little bloodthirsty today, Miss O'Sullivan?"

Maureen shot her the ugliest of smiles.

"When I'm speaking of English Uglymen? Never enough…"

Jane shook her head and stood up.

"One day you'll have to forgive, dear. Nobody can live with so much hate in their heart."

"I don't live, I survive," countered Maureen. "And, remember, I'm nobody's dear!"

Jane shook her head and began to walk towards the Dower House.

"That's for me to decide who I hold dear and who not, dear. I do believe that deep down under all your hatred there's a charming little girl who survives and who will some day come back to the surface…"

Maureen snickered.

"Don't let yourself be fooled, _madame la comtesse_. That little girl died a long time ago. And there's nothing that will ever be able to resurrect it!"

Jane nodded without looking at her bodyguard.

"We'll see, dear, we'll see… I refuse to accept defeat before having fought the battle."

"As your husband often says: don't enter into lost battles…"

"No battle is lost before its end…"

Maureen grumbled.

"Seems you want to have the last word today…"

"It comes with being the wife of Geoffrey d'Arcy! I just can't afford not having the last word. The day I accept his superiority I would become his shadow and I would no longer be of any use to anybody."

"Glad it's you and not me…"

"No more than I, no more than I…"

* * *

They were lying in each other's arms and were rather satisfied with what they had done the last hour.

By the light of the candle he could see that she was smiling and since he was smiling too, he could only be even more satisfied.

A long time escaped his mind while he was just admiring her…

"Nothing to ask?"

She opened her eyes and he saw sparkles floating in them.

"Not a thing, dear. I've got everything I lusted for…"

She closed her eyes and hugged herself nearer to him.

"I love you," whispered she. "I could not imagine that love could be so… limitless…"

He kissed her hair and proceeded to her nose, lips, neck…

While passing her earlobes he whispered his own love and was granted the most sensuous purr she could master.

After a certain time of sensual stroking he sighed.

"What did he want?"

She opened her eyes and he saw mischief in them.

"Who?"

He sighed.

"Come on! MacQueen! He spoke with you in the park…"

"Indeed and since you're such an information freak I don't doubt for a second that you know exactly what was the topic of our conversation…"

"And?"

She turned and crouched on him looking him straight in the eyes.

"And what?"

"Well, don't you have something to ask?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing at all, dear. As you know, everything's already decided. Why should I lose the few hours we share playing a role to get you to make an already formed decision?"

He frowned.

"It could be that…"

She stopped him with a kiss on his lips.

"No, it could not. You're so enamored of your schemes, dear, that trying to manipulate everybody has become a second nature. I know very well that you want me to act as your conscience and as if I'm the sensitive and compassionate one. So you push me into pleading with you for things you've already decided. Just to give me the good role in the play…"

"You are the sensitive and compassionate d'Arcy…"

She thanked him with a kiss on his lips.

"You're not half so heartless as you try to act. I'm sure you've already decided that most of the gentry you are right now holding in jail will be authorized to go to Scotland or Wales. You don't need me to make that decision for you. You need me to play the role of your conscience. You are desperate to show me in the best light possible."

He sighed.

"I want them to need you, to love you, to respect you… I'm scared to think what they could do to you if they didn't respect you…"

"And I thank you for that, dear, but remember, I'm no longer discovering you. And knowing you as a master of manipulation, I'm quite wary of not letting you manipulate _me_ more than necessary…"

"I love you when you fight for other people. You're so alive …"

"I'll choose my own fights in time, dear, and you won't agree with everything I want you to accept, take my word for it. But that's for the future. Meanwhile, I won't protest if you continue to push me into the role of the shining guardian angel of England but please do consider that I'm beginning to be able to see through some of your little schemes… I'm perhaps not as witty as Lizzy but that doesn't mean that I'm unable to see what you're pushing me towards…"

He sighed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't w…"

"Hush! There's nothing to be sorry about. I know that I'm in a delicate situation and I'm very grateful for what you do to make me look as if I'm a very important part of your decision making. But it's not necessary to manipulate me to make me play a role. Just inform me about what I need to know. I promise that I'll play my part when confronted with outsiders."

He hugged her and she saw tears rolling out of his eyes.

"I love you so much; I couldn't survive if something should happen to you. I want them to worship you…"

She kissed him before looking him in the eyes.

"Humankind has a tradition of breaking old idols, dear. Worship will only last so long. We'll have to live with the people and they will reject me even more easily if I appear as a false idol. Let's be careful not to create a lie. Let's just be us… Show yourself as the marvelous sensitive and open man you really are and it will be enough to guarantee both our survival…"

She cupped his face with her hands.

"Because I need you as much as you need me. And I would have great difficulties surviving if something should happen to you! So please do work also for your survival not only for mine…"

He smiled at her.

"I'll do my best. I have now the very best reason to survive, you know?"

"I certainly hope so…"


	20. Pemberley Political Surprise

A surprising proposition...

* * *

**Chapter twenty: ****Pemberley politics**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Saturday the twenty eighth August. **

* * *

"My lords," said Darcy while bowing to the Welsh delegates. "You wished to see us…"

Lord Abercranby, the designated head of the Welsh delegation, bowed in return and smiled at the young man who had never shown any pleasure being host to what could very well be considered as the dismembering of Britain.

"Indeed, Mr. Darcy," said he while bowing towards the young Mrs. Darcy. "As you know, we are going to sign the Treaties this very evening and tomorrow you will, after these long weeks of Welsh and Scottish invasion, be again Master of your Domain…"

Darcy nodded and the hint of a smile appeared on his lips.

"Not everybody agrees as to who's the Master of Pemberley nowadays…"

"We have no such qualms, Mr. Darcy. Your brother may be a fine politician and a man who covers his tracks in the best possible manner; he is a man of honor. And even if for the French authorities he is now Master of Pemberley we have no doubt that it is only a legal designation and that he will never try anything to oust you from your Estate."

Darcy scoffed while looking at his wife.

"If you say so…" His smile grew. "It seems my wife is of the same opinion. It appears that everybody sees my brother as the perfect gentleman. I really hope that everybody is right…"

He pointed towards the armchairs.

"Please take a seat, Tea, Coffee and Chocolate will soon be served with some pastries…"

They all sat and for a long uncomfortable period nobody said anything.

Elizabeth, after having spent a few seconds waiting for her husband to speak decided that uncomfortable silence was not what she wanted.

A few direct questions were on her mind and since she had all the delegates at her disposal she would ask them.

"Once the French Welsh Treaty is signed, what will be your agenda, my Lords?"

Abercranby could only sigh.

"Then the real difficulties will begin, madam," said he. "It's all good and well that after tomorrow Wales is an independent State but that's only the international part of the bargain. Once independent we will have to build a State structure which will give our people the means to live and survive in a world that looks each day a little more complicated."

"How so?" asked Elizabeth.

Abercranby looked at his colleagues and sighed once more.

"You must have noticed that, contrary to the Scotts who had a clear idea of what they wanted, we came here unprepared for the task…"

Darcy looked up with a rather surprised expression on his face.

"Never would I have thought that…"

Abercranby stopped him with a gesture of his had.

"We are all old politicians here. We couldn't stand to appear unprepared but the fact is: we were! Never in our whole life had we imagined that, one day, we would have to bargain for Welsh independence."

He looked at his colleagues and made a face.

"I must even confess that when I got the invitation from you brother, I was clearly misled. I had believed that we were summoned here to speak about the surrender of Great Britain and never ever of the creation of the free Kingdom of Wales…"

"You didn't show any surprise…" said Elizabeth.

That got her general laughter from the delegates.

"As said, Mrs. Darcy, we are all old and experienced politicians. We would rather die than give our enemies a clue about what could surprise us. But the fact is we were surprised. And bothered because we are, in our political hearts, Britons and we have never even dreamt of resurrecting the Kingdom of Wales…"

"Which," interrupted Elizabeth, "If I remember correctly, never really existed."

Abercranby nodded.

"You're quite right, madam. We Welsh were quite an unruly people and there never was a unified Welsh Kingdom. At times there were up to a dozen different little kingdoms that fought against each other. And when the Normans came from England they ate the Welsh Kinglets one after the other…"

He looked at Darcy.

"Your ancestors were with those Normans if I remember correctly…"

Darcy agreed with a nod.

"Indeed, they were. My ancestor was one of William's chief advisers. He played quite an important role in the subjugation of Saxon and Briton populations. In the matter of Wales, I do believe his grandson played an important role in the conquest of Builth."

He pointed toward a series of impressive books covering dozens of shelves on the south walls.

"I could look it up in the family chronicles if you want. We Darcys did quite a lot of things during these last seven centuries."

"It won't be necessary, Mr. Darcy. But then, if you'll forgive me for my audacity in asking, why is it that being the heir of a Norman Count who was one of William's chief advisers your family never received a title… One should have thought that a Duchy at least…"

Darcy could only laugh.

"That's a question every one of my roommates at Eton and Cambridge asked me as soon as politeness could permit it… And I must say that I have a very good rehearsed and satisfying answer. Our official family version is that being already an Earl in the most civilized Land of Christian Faith, my ancestor didn't want to become a Duke in what could be seen as a backward and barbarous country. But as a matter of fact, nobody knows why our ancestor didn't end up a Duke as did all his brothers in arms. He was brilliant and smart and he was as ruthless and greedy as his friends but it seems that, at some point of the Conquest, he lost William's trust and ended up with no Title but not really empty handed. We Darcy's have received quite a good share of England's lands. Dating from the 11th century we have a dozen great Estates scattered all over England." He pointed toward the window.

"Pemberley was not the greatest at that time but it was the one my ancestors fell in love with and decided to nurture as our main family estate. And I must confess that it is my most beloved spot of ground on Earth."

Abercranby could only nod his agreement.

"Your ancestors have done quite a good job and as I've seen it you are very committed to your estate's life."

"Of course I am… Pemberley's the Darcy's life and blood, my Lord. I don't have a title but I know my responsibilities to my people. Pemberley is this marvelous spot of Earth only because hundreds of us have worked together to make it so. And even if I'm the ruler of the estate, each and every one of my tenants is as important as I am for Pemberley. I love this land, but I love even more the people who live here. They are Pemberley's blood and soul. I'm only its head…" He looked at his wife. "And I'm very proud to have been able to find for Pemberley the most loving and compassionate heart available …"

She smiled at him while their fingers just joined.

They were so occupied with each other that they didn't notice the glances exchanged by the delegates sitting opposite to them…

A few seconds passed away before Elizabeth came out of her little enchantment.

How was it possible that she had not been able to see beneath the shyness and the defenses her husband had erected to protect himself?

He was so charming and honest and…

She stopped and blushed.

Now was really not the best moment to ponder all her passing failures and mistakes.

She turned towards the head of the delegation.

"Sorry for the interruption, my Lord. It seems that we are still rather entranced with each other."

Abercranby just smiled at her.

"No apologies needed, madam. You're married for so little time and all these weeks we were here to intrude on your poor husband's time. How could we utter a reproach of your passion for each other…"

She thanked him with a nod.

"Some could say that we are showing our passion with too much enthusiasm…"

"Those would be English, madam. We Welsh have a much more passionate creed. We love our songs, our liquors and our women with passion and fervor. We won't reproach your being in love with your husband… It's so rare in our circles that we can only applaud when two young people had been able to find each other and to build a healthy and passionate relationship…"

Darcy who was feeling the heat on his cheeks, decided that it was time to come back to a more sedate subject.

"We were speaking of your coming difficulties…"

"Indeed," agreed his counterpart. "Being independent is only the first and, if I can say it, easiest stage. Now we will have to build a State and we are not very sure of what will become of our thoughts…"

Elizabeth looked the old man in the eyes.

She had often spoken to him and he was a wise and agreeable old man. He was a widower and his only daughter was married away in America.

"Why don't you ask the Scotts? If I have understood rightly there's nothing they have not prepared and thought through…"

"Indeed, they have. They already have a Constitution and a candidate for King, a scion of the Stewart family who seems quite eager to place his…" he hesitated before going on, "…bottom on the throne of Scotland. And they seem to have thought through everything from fiscal rules to industrial investment and even universal suffrage… When I look at them I'm quite sure that within five weeks they will be able to organize their general elections and put out their first bills and laws…"

He made a face.

"We won't, that's for sure. We are awfully unprepared. We had no wish to become independent. We have been taken by surprise by your brother's offer…"

"Why not refuse then?" asked Darcy. "You could have…"

"No, we could not," interrupted Lord Abercranby. "As you have a responsibility for Pemberley's people and tenants; d'Arcy made us responsible for the people of Wales. I know that the situation in England is far from insurrectional. I was in America when they rioted against us and I must convey that your brother has taken measures that are smart and efficient. But you can look at it as you want, England is under the rule of a foreign master and its troops are patrolling the land. Given the choice between subjugation and independence nobody but a fool would choose subjugation. We were surprised by your brother's offer but we saw immediately that we had no real choice."

Darcy who had felt the "fool" reference as a criticism to his own –_rather sanguine_– position, felt himself blush.

Lord Abercrandy leaned toward him.

"I know your position, sir, and I respect it because I do believe that you're a real Patriot and a man who really considers that we should have refused to compromise ourselves with the French. But you cannot take this sort of position when you must take into account the well being of hundreds of thousands of people."

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair in a very Darcyesque gesture.

"We have been chosen by your brother to defend the Welsh people. And even if we don't like the position in which he has placed us, we are grateful that he gave us the opportunity to stand up and fight for our people's freedom. Now this freedom is secured and we even have a guarantee that those of Welsh descent who would wish to leave England to settle in Wales would be authorized to come to us…"

He looked at Darcy.

"Your brother even agreed to free the gentlemen he holds in jail and to give them free passage to Wales and Scotland if they swear to stay there and never try to come back without the French authorities' agreement. There will be no deportation and there will be no fence or wall between England and Wales… We have been given the opportunity to live in peace with our English neighbors without the risk of being invaded or annexed. He put a bargain into our hands we could not refuse. He knew it and these negotiations were the most interesting pieces of applied diplomacy I ever had the luck to witness."

He exhaled lengthily.

"So we are free Welshmen, Mr. Darcy and we have no clue as to how to organize our new free country."

Darcy looked at his wife and could not help but wonder where Lord Abercranby was steering this conversation.

"Can I be of help?"

The question came out without his real awareness. It seemed to him that they were approaching him and asking for his help. And some deep instinct in him could only respond by offering it.

"I think so, Mr. Darcy," answered Lord Abercranby. "But before everything else I would like to know it you have a little knowledge of Wales?"

Darcy could only snicker at that question.

"A little knowledge? Aside from Pemberley and London, Wales is probably the part of the British Isles I know the best. My father took me there the last seven years we spent together. He showed me all of the country and I received a working knowledge of all our Welsh Estates…"

"Welsh Estates?" asked Lord Abercranby with a raised eyebrow.

Darcy scoffed.

"Of course Welsh Estates, my Lord. The Darcy family acquired quite a few estates along the centuries and not only in England. We have half a dozen properties in Scotland and Ireland and probably an even greater number of small or not so small Welsh Estates. Before Industrialism buying land was what you did with the savings of your estates. And our estates have always been managed with skill and dedication!"

Lord Abercranby nodded and smiled at Darcy.

"We have seen what you've done with Pemberley, Mr. Darcy and we must confess that we are quite impressed with your results. Pemberley is a magnificent spot that yields quite a handsome reward for its possessor. Are your other estates as well managed?"

Darcy was quite the enthusiast when it came to his family's achievements and couldn't help but agree.

"We have had for centuries now a Trust which manages the totality of all our possessions. I have more than a dozen employees who work all year long to look after all our possessions. Until now they were always able to ensure a benefit. And for a few years now we have invested our savings in industries and mines. As for last year, we had the biggest earning in this family's history. I'm quite proud to have been able to increase the Darcy's fortune."

"I don't doubt it, Mr. Darcy and it is quite refreshing to see a young man of the Gentry so dedicated to his family and to his estates when most of your contemporaries were only following their passions and lusts."

Darcy blushed under the compliment.

"I was taught as a young man that with wealth came responsibilities. And with great wealth came…" He didn't end his sentence but he saw all the delegates nod and smile at him.

"And what about those Welsh Estates," asked Lord Abercranby. "We are quite curious. Could it be that we know one or more of them."

"Oh, one you surely will know," answered Darcy. Everybody on Wales knows of it. It is the Builth Lordship Estate which came into the family when one of my ancestors married the last daughter of Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, the last of the Welsh monarchs just after her father was massacred by Edward the First's troops. The house and the estate are rather ancient and quite uncomfortable. And, if I remember well, Builth Castle was, some time along the centuries pushed into the family by a King no longer willing to pay for its maintenance. I visited it when I was eleven. It was quite in disrepair and I had to convince my father to hire local workers to make the necessary repairs. He granted them to me and the last week of our trip I was, finally, able to climb safely to the highest spot of the great tower. I loved to be there on the dungeon looking down at what would be one day my responsibility. I was fancying myself at having being be able to stand against the Normans and hold my ground in this, my ancestor's castle."

He smiled at his youthful memories.

"At that time I didn't know that it was Edward who had built the castle on an old Roman Fort. Llywelyn ap Gruffydd never used it…"

He sighed and his smile grew just before he turned toward his wife.

"Some day, dear, when the times are easier, I must take you there to show you the Wye Valley. I'm not sure how I will react as a grown man, but I must say that the boy I was quite liked that fleck of Earth where that estate lies. We spent three months there and I must admit that I enjoyed every day of it."

He chuckled and came back to Lord Abercranby.

"You must know that it's there that I learned to fish and that to this day I love spending endless hours looking at flowing water and springing fish. And, if the memories of my youth are right, the Wye is probably the most beautiful mountain river in all the British Isles…"

Lord Abercranby nodded lengthily.

"It is Mr. Darcy, it really is. And you were right, we all know that particular Estate of yours. It was and it is a spot of great importance for Wales. It was where Welsh people lost their freedom to English invaders..." He looked Darcy deep in the eyes. "It could be, for the future, that it will again been a very important place…" said he in a very low and serious voice.

At that point Darcy finally understood what he was facing.

"Of course, I understand the symbolic value of such a place. I'm certainly ready to let you have it. I'll just have to tell my lawyers…"

He was interrupted by Elizabeth who squeezed his hand.

He looked at her, surprise in his eyes. She smiled at him and shook her head.

"Dear, I fear you don't really understand what Lord Abercranby is trying to tell you. He is not interested in your Estate." She looked at the delegates. "I'm quite sure they knew about your Wye Valley estate a long time ago." She forced her husband to look her into her eyes. "Dear, it's Fitzwilliam Darcy they are interested in… Nothing else!"


	21. Pemberley Family Discussions

Upset sisters...

* * *

**Chapter twenty one: Pemberley family discussions and domestic rows**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Saturday the twenty-eighth August. **

* * *

"That's it, ladies! Tomorrow we are Royalty!"

Kitty could only shake her head and look towards the Heavens.

"Don't be stupid Lydia. You know Fitzwilliam. He'll never accept! It goes against his feelings and convictions…"

"There are feelings and then there are responsibilities. And I believe they will be able to corner him with his responsibilities towards his people… That's what I would do!"

Kitty looked at Mary who had been silent for most of the conversation.

"Say something, Mary. You know that Fitzwilliam has very strong convictions. He won't be pushed into playing a role he can't stomach…"

Mary looked at her sisters and shrugged.

"I really don't know, Kitty. I believe Lydia is partially right. They could easily corner him by playing to his sense of responsibilities. He feels for his people, Kitty. He's a kind man. Those men are easy to push in the right direction if you know where to get your hold…"

Lydia shot her sister a winning smile and walked back to the table where she had piled the books with prospective husbands for herself and her sisters.

She looked through half a dozen of them and finally threw them away.

"These are no longer good enough…" She took the last book and showed it to her sisters. "Choices are becoming easier, ladies…"

Kitty couldn't help it but to react.

"When will you be able to understand that you're wrong Lydia? How many times must I say that I'm not interested in your scheming to get us husbands? I'm not interested in a Title and/or fabulous riches. I'd take a kind man with less fortune and more heart than the contrary every time…"

Lydia, never ready to back down from a fight was immediately in front of her sister.

"Stop deluding yourself, Kitty. There will be no love match for us. We'll have to go with wealth and power not love."

"I don't see why," shouted Kitty. "Jane and Lizzy got themselves fabulous loving husbands, I won't accept less simply because you've decided that wealth and power is so much more satisfying than love…"

"That's because it is! A thousand fold!"

"No it's not," shouted Kitty back. "I see no reason to surrender once more to your fancies. If you want to follow the road to what you consider your goal, go ahead but please let me alone. I don't want to be a part of your grand ambitious scheme. When everything is said we are and we will always be Edward Bennet's daughters. And your illusions of grandeur will not change the very fact that you are a silly goose who, once upon a time, was my dear and funny sister and who, with each passing day, becomes more boring and more uninteresting…"

Lydia looked at her elder sister and if glances could kill her sister would have fallen dead on the spot.

"Don't delude yourself, Kitty, Charles Bingley is a lost battle for you. Next time you encounter him, he won't even look at you. He fell in love with lovely shy Jane and he didn't even see you while he was courting her…"

"That's only because I behaved like an idiot! I was so foolish to believe you so smart and amusing and witty when you were only silly, bad tempered and poorly educated. Had I not followed you like the silly goose I was he would have seen me for what I am and not for what you made of me…"

"Oh? And what would you have been?"

Kitty opened her mouth to answer when their father's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"My daughters," said he with a very cold voice. "That's what you are and I do believe that you have forgotten that we are guests here at Pemberley and that it is very untoward to screech and shout at each other like battling washerwomen…"

He shot a stern look at his two younger daughters and went at Mary's side. As usual she was probably the most shaken of the three.

He hugged her and looked in her eyes.

"What is it, dear? Why are you so forlorn? What's happening in that little head of yours?"

Mary sighed lengthily.

"I'm a spinster in the making, Papa. The more I think about it and the more it seems to be my only real future. I'm too plain to be admired, too boring to be supported and too smart to accept being married for my dowry only. I'm just a mess…"

Edward Bennet took her into his arms and kissed her brow.

"You can be what you want, dear. I know I gave no good example for what a happy marriage could be but that's in the past. Look at Jane and Lizzy! They are happy and violently in love with husbands who love them even more. Unhappiness in marriage is not a fatality and their children will have happier lives that what I was able to give you…"

"We were never unhappy, Papa," said Kitty. She looked at Mary and saw that on that point her sister was agreeing with her. "It's just that we felt that lurking gap between our parents. We would have liked …"

She stopped and sighed.

Edward Bennet gave a last kiss to Mary and pointed toward the sofa.

"Girls, we need to talk, let's sit down."

When they were surrounding him he looked at them.

They had changed these last two weeks. Really changed.

Kitty being probably the most sensible of the three had just changed enough to become quite a fine lady. She would never be Lizzy or Jane but then, who cared? She would be Kitty and he could see that Kitty was a fine girl blossoming into a very fine young Lady. And now that she had been able to escape from her sister's silly influence she was discovering that seriousness was not the same as boring… She could laugh and gossip and play music… All while not losing what was her strength: a very sunny character.

He looked at Lydia and was surprised by the frown on her brow.

Where had silly happy unthinking Lydia gone? He was not sure that he really preferred what she was becoming. She was becoming too serious. Too engrossed in becoming a Duchess or a Countess…

Just to have a greater title than Jane she would probably target a Duke…

Mary sitting opposite to him and his younger daughters he put his arms around Lydia and Kitty.

"Girls, I know that a lot has happened these last weeks and that this August 1801 will probably stay in our family history as the Bennet month! But I really do believe that this superb fairy tale month is about to end and that September will see us coming back to reality."

He turned toward Lydia and smiled at her a very rueful smile.

"And the reality will probably be Hertfordshire, Longbourn, the Phillips and the Lucases and all those droll neighbors who laughed at us while we laughed at them…"

He laughed at himself while hugging his daughters against him.

"But even in Hertfordshire, even at Longbourn, I'll have to agree that the Bennets will never be the same. First because now, thanks to your brother, Longbourn is no longer under entail and will go to Jane so that you will never end up in the hedgerows when I'm dead and, last but not least, because I'm now in possession of enough of a fortune to give you all a real and substantial dowry."

He forced Lydia to look him in the eyes.

"But that doesn't mean that you'll end up a Duchess, dear. And it doesn't mean that you should try to end up a Duchess!" He sighed. "I'm sure that, if you try hard enough, you'll get what you want, title, man and all… But are you sure that's really what your heart desires? Do take into account that if Darcy accepts that silly Welsh offer, you'll have to find an Emperor to have a greater title than Lizzy, is it worth it?"

"It has nothing to do with Lizzy or Jane," protested Lydia.

Her father looked her in the eyes, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"It hasn't? Are you sure?" He winked at her. "Please do me the favor to analyze your feelings, dear. Don't lie to yourself, you're still only a girl and a lot of what you did in the past was done to get my and your mother's attention." He kissed her on the nose. "You should be aware that now that I lost my two elder daughters to husbands I'll have no choice but to come down on the remaining ones to be sure that they receive, finally, what I should have given them a long time ago…"

"You gave us everything we needed, Papa," said Mary.

"No I didn't," answered Mr. Bennet. "And you know it quite well. I left you in the care of your mother and neglected you. Now it's time to correct my failings. It's not too late and I hope that you'll stay with me long enough to give me the opportunity to compensate you for my former faults."

He looked at his three younger daughters.

"And I'd like you to stop bickering. I know that you are all strong characters with a will of your own but you do not need to demonstrate it forcefully thrice a day!"

He patted Lydia's hand.

"I won't try and stop you from becoming a Duchess, dear. I'll even do what's in my power to grant you all the opportunities you need, but please, stop being so focused on that very goal. You have time and you have no need to marry in a hurry. Look at your prospective suitors, study them and be very careful not to be blinded by things of lesser value." He exhaled deeply once more. "I know I'm not a good example or if you look at it the reverse way, I'm the best example you'll ever find. Don't enter into a marriage where there's nothing but self interest. Give yourself the opportunity to include happiness and trust and respect for your partner." He smiled at her. "Nobody has ever said that a Duchess could not be a happy wife. But to secure that little part, you'll have to be very careful and very discriminating in your choice… There are all sorts of men and, even if they are fewer, there are all sorts of Dukes. Just be careful to choose the one who belongs to you… And if the one who belongs to you is, in the end, no Duke at all, it won't be a problem either!"

* * *

"You did it!"

"I did nothing of the sort; I'm as surprised as you are…"

Jane kicked the nearest chair which slid a few inches on the slippery floor. She didn't feel the hurt she inflicted on herself so upset was she.

"And then why are you grimacing?"

"I'm not grimacing, I'm smiling! There's a difference, I assure you!"

She took hold of a bottle and threw it in the direction of her husband who caught it, returned it and put it on nightstand without even straining his arm.

Which obviously was enough to inflame his wife's bad mood!

"Don't deny it! There's Geoffrey d'Arcy Master Manipulator written all over it!"

"There's not!" countered he, while trying very hard to smother his grin. He was quite satisfied with what had happened this very day and he was even more satisfied that is wife was so sure that it was all his doing. He loved being admired by her. Even in this angry mood.

But admired or not, in this peculiar case he was as innocent as he pretended…

"They did it all alone and I never ever thought of pushing them into making such a proposition…"

She jumped him and he was quite glad to welcome her in his arms even if she was –_yet_– in no mood to play the game he had in mind.

"Don't lie to me! You think of everything months in advance! How could you not anticipate that they would think of him? That's exactly the reason you organized everything here! You knew it would happen…"

He hugged her and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"I'm very very satisfied that you believe I have such godly powers but I must insist against your growing faith in me that I did nothing to push the Welsh to ask Fitzwilliam to be their ruler…"

She looked him in the eyes and recognized that he was telling the truth. Perhaps not all the truth but then when was he really telling the whole truth?

He felt her relax and he pulled her to him giving her his most passionate kiss.

"I agree that I'm a psychotic manipulator but in this case the bare truth is that I'm innocent. I just really never researched about Darcy's Welsh ancestors… You must believe me, _mon amour_, there just wasn't enough time for me to look up his family history… For me he was family and if I was lucky, an ally, no reason to prepare a file on his past and his family. I found enough crimes with my own ancestors not to wish to look at his. I clearly should have, and for everybody else but you, I will always look back at this suspicion with a knowing and mysterious smile but the fact is, they did it without me!"

"That's crazy," whispered she finally. "How could they?"

He laughed heartily.

"How could they not? God, Jane, he's in the direct line of their last free King and he's the most honorable, gentle and kind gentleman of their acquaintance. In my opinion he's the last White Knight of the Realm! Would I have to choose a ruler for my Country, I would have chosen the same man…"

He chuckled.

"And politically it's a very clever move. He has the blood, he has enough land and properties to be able to provide for himself and his family and, perhaps not the least part of the bargain, he's the brother of the man who holds the future of the Isles in his hands. That's quite an interesting mix, don't you think?"

Jane grumbled and tried to extricate herself from his arms. He was very proficient in not letting her go.

"Let me go…"

"Never, I'd die without you…" was his immediate answer and he felt that she liked it very much even if she continued to play the upset wife.

"Please, I'd like to undress…"

"Let me do that part…" said he while smiling to her. "You know how I love it… I even created gowns I could just peel from your skin satisfying my fantasies…"

"I'm not wearing one of them…"

"That's right but then I'm in no hurry. I will be able to be patient if you grant me from time to time a few kisses …"

"From time to time?" said she while unable to stop a smile on her lips.

"Every odd second?"

That made her laugh and he felt that she was really and for the first time this evening the loving wife he cherished.

"The more I know you and the more I must notice that you are full of yourself monsieur d'Arcy…"

"How could I not be? From the beginning I was handsome, smart and brawny and now I happen to share the life of the most beautiful wife in the world! How could I not be full of myself? There's no man on earth who's better situated than I!" He kissed her and whispered in her ear. "While in your arms, I have no doubt that I'm the Master of Creation…"

He saw her love in her eyes and soon he attached himself to give her all the proof she needed that he was, indeed, violently in love.

* * *

"What are we going to do?"

Lizzy snuggled against her husband and kissed his worried brow.

"You make the decision and I'm going with you whatever you decide…"

He smiled at her and hugged her while looked lovingly at her.

"I know but just now, I am dearly in need of advice, you know…"

"I know and I'm not reluctant to give it but before it must be very clear that whatever you decide, even if it's not what I would prefer, I will be happy and proud of your decision and I'll back it with all my power…"

He sighed.

"There are not a lot of choices, are there?"

"You can say 'yes', 'no' or 'perhaps'," answered Lizzy. "And if you ask me you should begin with 'perhaps'…"

He scoffed at the word.

"That's nearly the same as 'yes'…"

"No, it's not dear as you know. With a conditional acceptance you," she winked at him, "…_we_ would be able to get a few reforms those honorable gentlemen would perhaps not naturally include in their for the coming State crafting…"

His loving eyes became a little suspicious.

"And in what kind of reforms are _we_ interested?"

She frowned and turned in order to be able to look him in the eyes.

"Fitzwilliam, do you believe me a sensible creature?"

He chuckled.

"I would say that I believe you the most sensible one, dear. The most sensible one…"

She thanked him with a smile.

"Do you believe Mrs. Reynolds to be a sensible creature?"

His frown increased.

"Of course I do. I let her handle my household for years and it was always perfectly managed."

"So there are women who are sensible creatures, you do agree…"

"Yes," agreed Fitzwilliam who was beginning to feel where his lovely little wife was steering him. "But then there are also a great number of women who are definitely not sensible creatures…" added he in a hurry.

He saw Lizzy's smirk.

"Let's agree to that and let's go a little farther. Are all gentlemen so very sensible?"

"Of course not," laughed Fitzwilliam. "I could name you quite a few who are perfect idiots…"

"And still, even if they are idiots, they have the right to vote just _because_ they are gentlemen… It has clearly nothing to do with them being sensible or not…"

"Indeed," agreed Fitzwilliam who was feeling more than a little trapped.

"But for denying to women the right to be men's equals the argument of sensibility is always put in front, isn't it?"

Fitzwilliam grumbled something noncommittal.

"So even if it is clearly a falsity all women are, by principle, considered idiots while all gentlemen are, by the same principle are considered geniuses…"

"The words 'idiots' and 'geniuses' are perhaps a little too farfetched…" stammered Fitzwilliam who knew that he was cornered. "The fact is that gentlemen are, from school on, educated to understand the way a country is managed. After years of schooling they have the knowledge to make sensible decisions…"

That got him a victorious smile from his wife.

"While, at the same time, ladies are refused this same education which would give them the knowledge to make sensible decisions but educated to be perfect dummies! How can you complain that women are unable to do something useful for the country if the male ruling class does everything to hinder them becoming sensible members of the society?"

She looked him in the eyes.

"So, dear husband, is it so surprising that women are fluff heads if everything they are taught are to become and stay fluff heads?"

"They won't accept…" stammered Darcy desperate to end the argument quickly.

"And that would be a very interesting outcome for everybody, wouldn't it? It would not be you who had refused but they who would have backed down before a difficult decision which would have changed the face of the new Kingdom…"

He looked at her and frowned.

"You are serious, aren't you?"

"Of course, I am, Fitzwilliam. They are desperate and they want you because it is the best bargain they will ever be able to get. It's now or never if we want to get something they would never give under normal circumstances. Everything is in the making, we could get much more than we ever dreamed of. And if they refuse, we would have tried…"

He shook his head.

"They will never accept it. Nobody could! Even the French beheaded the women who fought for women's suffrage. It's just not possible…"

"We don't know yet! If we don't ask, we'll never get anything, that's for sure! Ask and you'll see what they are ready to swallow to get the ruler they covet…"

He sighed heavily.

"Dear, I can understand why a woman like you could be interested in politics, but most women are not…"

"Then they will follow their husbands in their choices and nothing will really change! But there's a difference between having the right to vote and not using it and being, by principle, considered too foolish to get it!" She frowned at him. "And as you agreed a few minutes ago there are sensible women who will want to play a role in their country's life. Why deny it to them just because of these old patriarchies that refuse to let women play their legitimate role…"

She shot him her most disarming smile.

"You could be the man who could show the world that there is another way than sexism…"

He shook his head.

"I have no intention of being that man…"

"You had no intention of being Wales' new ruler. And still you're envisioning it… There's no limit to an open mind!"

He shot her a blank stare.

"You wouldn't be trying to manipulate me?"

She let her hands stroke his breast.

"Of course I am! How else could I bestow on you the pleasure you seek?"

He sighed and couldn't help but smile at her.

"I've married a wife who's too smart for me. I should have taken Caroline Bingley. She would never have asked such unseemly things…"

She kissed his breast and began to roam toward his erect manhood.

"The only unseemly thing I spot is not of my doing…"

"Yes it is…"

She smiled at him.

"Not yet…" said she with sparkling eyes. "But soon…"

* * *

They were lying in each other's arms and were totally satisfied with what they had done this last hour.

He sighed when he saw her sparkling eyes.

"I'm lost forever, you know that, I suppose…"

"We're lost together, dear. But together we won't ever have to fear anything…"

He nodded. He knew she was right.

She leaned into his arms.

"And to end our little political chat, please take a last point into consideration. If, in a few years, England should be freed from the French, what would be best for a future reunification of the United Kingdom and recreation of the British Empire? Would it not be Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy sitting on the Welsh Throne in place of an ambitious nobody whose only future would be to stay where he is?"

She smiled a last time at him.

"What do you think, Mr. Darcy?"


	22. Pemberley Farewells

Duty calls...

* * *

**Chapter twenty two: Pemberley farewells**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday the twenty ninth August. **

* * *

"It's confirmed, I'm leaving tomorrow. Tuesday is the date of Lebrun's 'surprise arrival'. I must be there to be sure he doesn't unravel everything I've done to maintain the calm in London…"

Jane tried a courageous little smile.

"It couldn't last much longer… You have duties and I'm guilty of holding you here when you would have been so much more useful in London…"

He took her into his arms.

"That's not true. I was needed here for the Scottish and Welsh Negotiations. They would not have been so successful without me present…"

"They could have ended a week earlier, could they not?"

He made a little head gesture.

"I could have won three or four days, for sure, but then the delegates would really have had reasons to suspect I was bullying them. So everybody's satisfied, dear. France has two new happy allies and the whole of Europe got the proof that France has the will to grant freedom to all the people who wish to work with her. These few days I spent here with you will bring more peace and stability to Europe than everything else I've done since I came ashore. Being a conqueror is a fine affair when you want to be admired by hot heads and wild young men who still believe themselves immortal; being the man who's able to renounce riches and grant freedom to a former enslaved people is much better when your goal is to convince mothers and fathers."

She frowned at him.

"Enslaved? That's a bit exaggerated, isn't it?"

He smiled and hugged her.

"Of course it is, dear, but don't forget that, in that particular matter, I'm also a politician. For Italian, Greek or Polish freedom fighters these are the words they want to hear. And these are the people we want to convince of the good faith of France's intentions. We have shown that we have the military power to squash all potential enemies but we have also shown that we are able to take the people's will into account…"

"We? I'm not so sure your Boss will be so happy not having had his part of the riches you so easily renounced…"

He chuckled.

"That's right but even if he is a greedy little gnome, he is very smart when it comes to analyzing a situation. I'm sure he already knows how to use what happened here at Pemberley to further his agenda and to convince European rulers that they have no longer a choice but to listen to him…"

He sighed and kissed her on the brow.

"And you can't imagine how many of them will try to pay Napoleon to be let alone. Bribes will flow to his cassette and he will use that money to ensure the success of his next political move. I wouldn't be very surprised if the fate of the Consulate is already decided…"

He chuckled once more.

"I know Napoleon lusts for a Title. He would love to be King of France. But choosing that title would reopen too many half-healed wounds in quite a few of his supporters. So he'll go for Emperor. I'm sure… With all the regalia of a little man becoming a great ruler!"

He shook his head and looked her in the eyes while showing his dimples.

"Prepare yourself, dear; we will be part of the most outrageous crowning ceremony the world has witnessed in ten centuries. His new Crown will probably be high enough to get him all the height he believes he lacks… And he will have invited every ruler of Europe and beyond."

He pulled her against him.

"And you'll be the most beautiful woman of all. I'll croon like never before!"

"There will be others," whispered she. "Josephine, Bonaparte's wife, is said to be quite beautiful."

"She is! But she has none of your qualities. You're the sun and she's the moon! Every other day, you would outshine her. But, of course on the day of her coronation she will be the center of the womenfolk at court." He sighed. "As soon as possible we will have to go to Paris or perhaps we could invite her to London. I'd like you to know her and, if possible, to befriend her. She's a very important person in Napoleon's life. Having her as an ally or, better, as a friend, would be a very prudent move…"

Her eyes half shut.

"Wouldn't you be there to protect me?"

He looked into her eyes and saw her worries.

"Of course I'll be there, but as I said before I'm only a man and my business is a dangerous one. It might be that I'm injured and while healing I would not be as present as I'd like. I'm a man who likes to prepare. Even for the most improbable events… So…"

She nodded.

She knew that, in his heart, he believed that she would be, one day, alone without him at her side. He had never told so much but from time to time she saw a longing in his eyes. And that longing spoke of what he was convinced he would lose.

"I'll do my best to become her friend, I promise," whispered she.

"You'll have no problem, she'll love you," answered d'Arcy while stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

She took his hand in her own and kissed it.

"I'm not universally appreciated, you know… Some people find me colorless and wane or faint or pale or wanting…"

"There are blind people everywhere… God be thanked, I'm not one of those. I know all the treasures you're keeping only for me. Josephine will know it too. She's a good judge of character. You'll see…"

She made a face.

"I'm not sure I'll blend in with all those mighty Aristocrats…"

"Don't fret over it. Josephine is only an aristocrat thanks to her first marriage. And apart from a Duke there's no better aristocrat than I in France… It won't last; I'm sure, because very soon our beloved ruler will be very eager to create a new aristocracy encompassing all of his former friends and allies."

She pushed herself out of his arms.

"You're not his fried, you said it yourself. What will that mean for you?"

He saw in her eyes that she was more than a little worried. She was like, all the other English women, rather dubious about France's new ruler.

"Don't worry about me! Everything is under control and I won't have the least problem with our next new old ruler! We are not friends, indeed, but we need each other quite a lot! We will find a nice cozy arrangement which will give us all the opportunities in the world to work together for France with probably between us a sea that will give us very few opportunities to see much of the other… As I see it, he will shove all the oversea campaigns to me while he fights his own wars in Europe."

Jane made a face.

"So you believe there will be war? Once more?"

Geoffrey nodded.

"I'm sure. War is what we are best at, he and I… And a man lusts to do what he is best at…"

He sighed while smiling.

"But I should perhaps stop to consider myself as a man of war. I no longer deserve that title. I must admit that since a certain encounter in August I'm very reluctant to look at my old self. It seems that what I lust for today is very different from what I lusted for a few months ago. I confess that, when I wake up in the morning the only thing I want to do is to sit on my bed and admire my smiling sleeping wife. And I'm sure I could do it all day long…"

She smiled while blushing.

"I won't sleep all day and I'm probably not always smiling…"

"Yes, you are, dear. I never saw you not smiling while asleep. And I asked Lizzy, she confirmed. You do have a strong tendency to be smiling in your sleep. And I must confess that I love the idea that my wife is happy enough to let an unconscious smile blossom on her lips when she's at my side relaxed and dreaming." He kissed her. "As for the rest, I hope very much that you won't stay asleep all day because I know exactly what I want to do with said wife as soon as she's awake…"

She shook her head and snuggled herself against him.

"I won't smile while you're gone," whispered she. "You're not yet gone and I'm already worried."

He kissed her and hugged her tightly.

"I know and I'm sorry but to be on time, I'll have to ride fast all the way to London. There's no choice there, I won't make you ride at my side. So, whatever happens, we would be separated for at least three days. You won't be with me for a long time and I would worry about you on roads that are not all that secured. No, even if it erases your smile from your lips for the next week, I prefer your staying at Pemberley under the trusted eyes of my brother, his wife and your own family."

He chuckled.

"And it will give you the chance to rest. I don't know if we have slept more than four hours a night these last days. Even a violent love as mine cannot, in the long term, replace eight hours of sleep. I'll do the same while in London and when I'm back, I swear I'll do what's necessary to bring back that delicious smile on my wife's lips…"

She bent back to look him in the eyes.

"When will we move to London?"

He became very serious.

"Very soon after my return to Pemberley we'll be on our way. I'll use my sojourn in London to prepare everything and to take care of all the details of our coming. I'd say to be ready for the middle of September. We will occupy the left wing of the Palace. It's the most modern and I'm sure there are no secret passages giving access to the rooms there. It will be easier to fend off surprises…"

"You're always anticipating surprises…"

"That's because I hate surprises coming from unfriendly people. Those I want to know about even before their authors had thought of them. So as to be able to transform their surprises into surprises of my own."

He laughed.

"I'm impatient to see my dear Consul's face when his surprise dissolves in thin air and is replaced with my surprise arrival. He won't like it and he will be very angry to be cheated of his little scheme! And in his anger he'll make mistakes and I'll use his mistakes to further my projects. It will be a very interesting week, I'm sure…"

"He won't stay longer?"

"He can't! He has an appointment with Bonaparte and he won't have the courage to cancel it. He's only a place holder and a follower. He knows he cannot take the risk of losing his boss' favor. He will smirk and snort but he will go back exactly after a week. Hopefully to never return. And as soon as I've seen his vessel away, I'm coming back…"

Jane sighed and looked into his eyes.

"It's perhaps a good thing… I need to recover and regain my own perception of things. While you're here I'm quite unable to be my old self. All I want is to be with you and that's not a very progressive attitude for a modern female."

He shook his head while smiling at her.

"I don't need a progressive attitude in my wife…"

He stopped her protest with a finger on her lips.

"But I won't begrudge you your convictions. I'll be at your side and I will support everything you propose that is not going to be rejected unanimously by English society." He sighed. "You know, even in revolutionary France the first women who asked for an equal treatment with men only lasted so long. Their leader was beheaded in 1793…"

"But only because she was in the same carriage as her Girondin friends," protested Jane. "They never accused her publicly of being a progressive woman fighting for the rights of our sex… She was condemned because she was denouncing the autocratic and bloodthirsty trend of the new leaders of the Revolution. She was an intelligent and honest woman who fought for justice and freedom! And the first justice society owes to us, women, is to treat us like normal human beings."

He laughed at her outburst.

"I forgot that you are not only the most precious wife a man can dream of, but also a very informed and knowledgeable specialist of female history…"

He looked her in the eyes.

"In the end she lost because most of the women weren't able to understand her fight. Men could have accepted her arguments. It seems that her worst enemies were women who could not accept the changes her legacy would have brought to them…"

He took her into his arms and hugged her.

"Look at what she did and learn from her mistakes and failures. You won't succeed if you are unable to convince the English women to back you in your endeavor. Without their support you'll have them and their husbands and brothers working against you. You will have to be very careful and cautious in the way you present your arguments. Most people, and females are even more of that kind, are afraid of change. They will accept only what they have seen being better than the old ways. And that means that you won't be able to impose female equality with a bill or an edict. You'll have to convince the woman folk that it will give them more advantages not fewer. And with changes, you'll never know…"

He felt her clench her fists. That was not what she wanted to hear. But that was what he had to say.

"I am with you in your enterprise don't ever doubt it but I will not let you become the scapegoat of all discontent. Do things and show the results before speaking of the philosophy behind the facts. Hollow words are a very good way to get hanged without ever having achieved anything. I have the means to give you the head start you need to launch your little revolution. Don't squander them by speaking too much and achieving too little… Think about projects where you could place women in places where they could demonstrate that they are as efficient as men. Look for allies in the world of well known women. Search for tasks not or badly done in our society and take them over with the help of other women who want to improve their lot. Don't say why you do it, just do it… Once it's a success you'll be able to build on this success to convince even more women to join you…"

She searched his eyes.

"Do you believe in me?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course I do, I even believe that, if you resist the natural human tendency to preach, you will be able to give the right impulses to change the fate of the females of our society. But even if I have all confidence in you I'm not really convinced that our societies are, as of now, ready to listen to your message."

He smirked at her.

"But then I believe I gave your cause a real push by forcing most of the males of the Gentry to quit their domains. Females will be obliged to take over and those who are willing will show that a woman can be as capable as a man in estate management… That could be one useful overture on which you could build your demonstration…"

He closed his eyes and thought for a minute.

"I could even go further by giving those willing ladies the seats of their husbands in the Houses…"

He opened his eyes and they were sparkling. "That would be an interesting change, don't you think? I'm quite sure that some of the ladies would accept. Not out of ambition or to further the cause of feminism but to protect their family's interests. And by doing that they would prove the rightness of your thesis…"

He thought of something and she saw him laughing aloud and showing great joy.

"And I'll ask our Aunt Catherine if she would accept replacing Lord Kendall in the House… I'm sure she's going to accept. Can you imagine her refusing a forum where she could berate the whole Aristocracy? I can't…"

He chuckled.

"I'm even going to assist in some of the meetings when she's there. It promises to be high entertainment!"  
Jane shot him a dubious look.

"I'm not sure it would further the cause of womankind…"

Geoffrey smiled at her and took her hand before kissing it.

"She's not the most feminine person you could imagine but she is very astute and has a great theoretical knowledge of a lot of subjects. She will do a wonderful job in showing those few aristocrats that women can have useful knowledge…"

He smiled at his wife.

"And don't forget she'll be an enemy of your cause! There's nobody on earth more conservative than she. She'll fight with all her power against those reforms of yours. You'll never find a more implacable enemy..."

He saw the doubt in her eyes.

"And why should that be helpful?"

"Easy, dear, it is a truth universally accepted that one conversation with her is enough to fuel the fieriest hatred, you know. Her being your enemy will bring you quite a lot of –perhaps half convinced– supporters for the simple reason that most of the time it's very satisfying to oppose her just for the sake of it…" He laughed again. "She really could be your best ally… I'll call her to London while I'm there. She could even have a further use. I'll make sure that she'll have lots of opportunities to berate Lebrun. They will hate each other's guts and it will be most gratifying to let them bite at each other."

He kissed her a last time and put on his cloak.

"The general and his escort are coming with me tomorrow. Please see that, while I'm absent, you get a room in the main building. It would be easier for the few men I placed on guard duty to do their job if you're all in the same building…"

He winked at her and was gone…


	23. Pemberley Under Attack

Bad tides are coming...

* * *

**Chapter twenty three: ****Pemberley under attack**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Monday the thirtieth August. **

* * *

"Here it is… Exactly where he said it would be!"

Lord Soames voice was, as usual, full of deference and admiration.

"How could it not," asked Lord Bates with his usual whine. "It is his Estate after all. If he doesn't know about it, who else would?"

"Is it easy to open?" interrupted Lord Washpool. "We have only firearms and no tools…"

"It should be easy," answered Soames. "There's a heavy door under the scrub. It seems in good shape… I'll go down and have a look…"

Bates and Washpool looked at each other.

Soames was perfect in his self-appointed role. He was just young enough to be ready to accept all the risks and enthusiastic enough to do the ugliest shores.

They saw him jump into the hole.

There was a 'grump" and a stifled noise. Rocks rolling one over the other and dead wood splintering under a heavy weight.

"Problems?"

"No, rubble and earth. I lost my footage but I'm safe…"

There were noises and after less than a minute they heard Soames shout in triumph.

"The key worked! The oil I put in the keyhole helped and the door opens inwards…" There was a loud "screech" and an exclamation.

"Long time nobody used it… Quite dirty within…"

"It's an old shaft," remarked Bates. "They usually are quite dirty. Do you see signs of collapse?"

"No, the roof is heavy masonry. It will hold. It's not even wet here."

"Well that's a good thing. Let's get the others and the lamps," said Washpool. "We have a few hours of daylight left. I want to use it…" He looked down the hole. "Will we need a ladder?"

"No, the scrub is enough to climb up. I'll show you…"

And ten seconds later, Soames was at their side.

"How many miles from Pemberley?"

"I would say five," answered Washpool. "It will take us a few hours. It will be evening when we arrive. We'll have the whole night to do what has to be done…"

"Well," said Bates. "Let's get the others. It will be a long night…"

They were seven people walking in a line along the narrow underground passage. As usual the three "freedom fighters" were leading and incorporating the roles of leaders. The other four following behind them were playing the necessary roles of footmen or lowly guards.

Those four knew each other for quite a long time and they trusted each other. What they didn't do was trust in the self-appointed leaders but they'd never show it. It had not been necessary until now. It would not last. It would be soon time to show what they really wanted.

But now was not the best moment.

First they had to get what they were looking for.

Doug Adams shot an amused look to Mattingly, his "lieutenant".

He got a smile as an answer.

Mattingly and his two comrades? Lucas Wayne and Jonas Jones –his real _real_ name, no joke there– were experienced and efficient highwaymen of an old and perhaps obsolete tradition. No death, no injury, no harassment and no kidnapping had been their dictum for their whole and rather lengthy career as robbers. And by following these rules they had survived much longer than most of their brethren. That was before he recruited them two years ago. Now they were _freedom fighters_ and had gone undercover to be able to teach those poor souls who wanted to resist the invaders a way to survive while dodging French bullets…

They had mastered all the tasks they had been given and had been quite efficient in teaching the awful trio what was necessary to survive until now.

It wouldn't perhaps last for much longer.

Because soon those "leaders" of theirs would be very surprised and more than a little upset. But that was unavoidable. Their goals were a little bit too bloodthirsty to be tolerated.

They thought themselves paladins acting for a larger cause and having convinced each other that the goal justified all means they had decided that the French Leader had to be hit where it would hurt him most.

Tthat was what they believed and wanted. He and his three associates had other goals. Much less "honorable" and "haughty" indeed but also much more "profitable" and "clean"! And that last part had an even more interesting part: since their approach of the problem would –with luck– _not_ unleash the Wrath –_only his ire_– of a man who had thousands of men at his command and who had shown that he was able to get what he wanted in a remarkably short time period.

Not to say that, in his case, it was a matter of principle.

No innocent would be killed on his watch and for sure no woman would ever be killed in cold blood while he was able to stop the hand of the killers. And that was even truer because the would-be killers were gentlemen who thought themselves to be so much superior to everybody else and who looked down particularly long and snobbish noses at all the rest of the world with, of course, the inevitable smirk on their aristocratic faces.

It would do them good to discover the right place they were occupying in the scale of the world.

They would whine and probably –_did he hope they would? He wasn't sure_…– try to resist but they would soon have to accept the bitter reality of their real situation. No more leaders but apprentices about to obey their real masters!

"There's a stair straight ahead," said Lord Soames who was playing, as usual, the scout for his two colleagues. He was the dumbest of all three and, probably because of it, the most dangerous one. The probability was that _he_ won't survive the night…"How long did we walk?"

"Close to two hours…" answered Washpool. "We are within the predicted time frame. The sun is just sinking. We should be entering the cellars within minutes. We'll decide what to do once we know where we come out…"

"_He_ said it would be the wine cellar…" said Soames with the usual capital "he" when he spoke of his idol.

"I never visited the cellar of my Estate," countered Washpool. "Why should I have? And why should he? No real interest there. That's what servants are for. He could have it wrong. I prefer to be sure where we come out before going on…"

"How are we going to find her?" asked Lucas one of Adams' man.

"We have the map and we'll have to question one of the servants to get her exact location. Once we know we'll move…"

"Why not wait till everybody's asleep? I still don't understand why we have to make our move while everybody is still awake. Why take those risks?"

"I've already explained it!" muttered Washpool. "We need a servant to give us her exact location. If everybody's asleep how would we find her? Everything's going to be fine; we have the servants' livery to give us the right disguise while moving within the Manor. We should get to her very quickly and it won't take us very long to do the deed…" Adams snorted. They always spoke of the "deed" as if they were MacBeth. Probably because, as was MacBeth, they were spineless cowards and brutal murderers.

He laughed to himself. They probably had no idea that he knew where they took their little literary code to name their mission.

"As said we'll need most of the night to get out of the County."

Adams smirk increased. All of their plan had been a hit and run stunt. Hit fast and run even faster, if possible to the other side of the new Scottish border and from there to Ireland where they could boast about their _great_ achievement.

How they could believe that such minute things like a border or even an ocean could stop a man like d'Arcy to get at them was beyond his understanding. But then they were gentlemen, weren't they? And he had enough proof in his life that most of the so-called gentlemen he had encountered were complete idiots!

"When the body is found tomorrow morning," went on Washpool, "we have to be as far as possible in order to escape to safety. If we wait, we'll be stuck here for hours and it will be dawn when we come out of the passage. They'll catch up with us, that's for sure."

Mattingly looked at Adams and seeing his boss shaking his head lightly and remained silent.

They had agreed that going in early would be the best way to succeed even with their alternate version of the plan.

They would have time enough to cover the thirty miles to their den in the Peaks and, there wait for the payment to reach Wrexham or whatever came first.

With this last comment they arrived at the top of the stairs and stood in front of a wooden door.

"Well we'll soon know if your boss ever visited his cellar," said Adams while opening the door.

* * *

"Hey, he'll come back! You've really no reason to make such a face…"

Jane tried a little smile that convinced neither Lizzy nor Georgiana.

"I don't know," said she. "I have this little tingling feeling at the back of my mind. As if something bad is going to happen soon…"

"He took half his army with him. Nothing's going to happen to him, you'll see…"

Jane shook her head and sighed heavily.

"I don't know. I'm just worried."

She looked at her sisters and tried a not very convincing sulk.

"You know I'm not very satisfied with what's happening to me. He's not out of my life for more than six hours and I'm already out of my mind with worry. Lizzy you've the right to ask what happened to your sister! You know the one who could remain calm and reasonable even in the direst circumstances… She's been exchanged with a changeling who's no longer able to not worry! What's left is a mess…"

Lizzy laughed and hugged her beloved older sister.

"She'll be back in time, dear. I belive it's the pampered and spoiled new bride who has a few problems realizing that the honeymoon has just ended. Let yourself become accustomed to the _normal_ marital status of a wife waiting at home for the return of her busy husband. He has responsibilities and won't be able to stay with you all day long any longer… You'll have to get used to his absences. And I'm quit dissatisfied to say that the same could happen to me very quickly since Fitzwilliam is pondering some decisions who would give him opportunities to not be with me…"

Jane smiled at her sister.

"Indeed, there's that… What are you going to do?"

"We don't know: he's still deliberating. If you ask me, he's not very fond of the idea of moving to Wales, and he's even less fond of the whole ruler scheme, but then it's a hell of a challenge and somewhere deep inside him he loves the idea…"

Jane snorted.

"Who wouldn't? Kitty told me that Lydia is already planning her future _royal_ wedding…"

Lizzy nodded emphatically.

"I heard as much myself. You know I'm beginning to regret old, silly, foolish Lydia… She was perhaps difficult to contain but she was not so insufferable as she is today… She's walked into that heiress business with a will of her own and she is giving a new dimension to the term 'mercenary'. I'm rather afraid of what will come out of this new folly if hers!"

"Kitty is more than concerned," said Georgiana. "Lydia seems to think of nothing else than marrying at least a Duke… In some unfathomable way I do believe that Kitty feels herself responsible. As if she could have done something if she had been at her sister's side…"

Jane shook her head.

"Kitty is a good girl and I'm more than satisfied the way she has evolved while here at Pemberley with you and Lizzy, Georgiana. But I fear there's something in Lydia's thought process that we are unable to understand. She's just not like the other Bennet sisters. She really tends to exaggerate in her behavior and her ways. We should perhaps speak to her?"

The question was directed at Lizzy who made a face.

"I tried, but to no avail! She's just as focused on becoming a Duchess as she was at flirting with officers…"

It was Georgiana's turn to sigh.

"In some monstrous way, I fear that she is the only one who has grasped the whole problem of our being heiresses to the d'Arcy dynasty…"

"There's no d'Arcy dynasty…" said Jane.

"There's no Darcy dynasty…" said Lizzy.

"Yes there is!" countered Georgiana. "We Bennet or Darcy maidens are right in the middle of this _existing_ Darcy dynasty problem. With Geoffrey's victory and marriage we have altered into something very different than before. I was a 30 thousand pounds heiress but I had no political or social importance. I had only to defend myself against dowry hunters. That's no longer the case. Now I'm the _sister _of the man who has the power to do and undo fortunes and titles. The man who has shown that family ties are important to him! I really can't begin to imagine what type of suitors are going to flock around me to get that sort of family connections. And Kitty, Mary and Lydia are exactly in the same position. Lydia being the only one who has thought about a way to come out of this mess choosing and not being chosen!"

Jane made a face.

"I'm not sure admiring Lydia is the best way to bring her back down to earth…"

"But there's _no more _down to earth for us," scoffed Georgiana. "We are just out of any normal past reference. If you're honest with yourself, you can only admit that marrying one of us is now in England the best and easiest way to secure family heirlooms and titles. The only thing I'm wondering is when the first ones are going to call on us…"

She shook her head.

"And if I was scared before because of my dowry, imagine what I'm thinking now that I'm aware that I just became the perfect insurance for all those who fear for their wealth, their titles and their status?"

Jane took her in her embrace and smiled at her.

"Let them come and we'll help you separate the wheat from the chaff, we promise! And even if there's only one good fellow in the mass of suitors we will help you to find him."

Georgiana sighed.

"I'm sorry to bother you with my problems but I really am scared with what is happening."

She held up her hands to make amends for what she seemed to be saying but her face showed that she was really afraid.

"It's just that I cannot imagine that I'll be able to resist such pressure." She shook her head. "I never wanted to be only a pawn in the marriage market and now, thanks to these awful events, it seems that I'm even more a pawn than before…"

Lizzy took her seat to put it in front of her sister and looked her in the eyes.

"There's no rush to marry you, dear. Even if the Duke of Cromarty was here begging for your hand, you wouldn't be forced to accept. You know Fitzwilliam better than I do and you know that he will never accept letting you go if he has a doubt about the way you feel. As long as you're honest with him and you confess your doubts and fears, nothing will ever force you to accept a husband you don't like. I'm even sure that Fitzwilliam would refuse to let you go even if _you_ were decided. It's a good idea as long as there is a doubt in his mind." She smiled at her. "You know how protective he can be… He won't let you go with a man who has not convinced him that he loves you and respects you! And should he be a Duke and rich as Croesus he wouldn't stand a chance if there's a doubt concerning your future happiness in Fitzwilliam's mind…"

Jane squeezed her hands.

"And perhaps you should try Lydia's new strategy? I know it seems mercenary and devoid of feelings but it's a way to save more time in order to delay a decision. As a matter of fact don't place yourself on the front line. Let Fitzwilliam and Lydia do the first sorting. Even if they call on you, you won't be forced to see them immediately. Let Fitzwilliam or the general, as your protectors, look at the suitors first. I'm sure they won't be impressed by titles or fortune if your happiness is at the center of the discussion. They love you, dear, and they are very protective of you…"

Georgiana tried a shy smile and sighed again.

"I know but then I fear that, one day, they'll tire of protecting me…"

Elizabeth could only laugh at that remark.

"As Kitty already stated, it's quite the opposite you have to fear with Fitzwilliam. For the next three or four or five years he'll consider you too young to even envision marrying you away, after that he'll find other reasons to fend of suitors, you'll see!"

Georgiana looked her sister in the eyes.

"But I don't want to end up a spinster, Elizabeth… I'd very much like to have my own home and children…"

Elizabeth laughed at her sister's innocence.

"That's quite normal dear and I promise you that, if one day you are sure of the choice of your heart, Fitzwilliam will accept the consequences of your choice and let you go. But meanwhile don't begrudge little blessings. Fitzwilliam's protectiveness could be an asset we could use to fend off all inadequate suitors. And, if some day, there's _the one_, you will be able to count on my help to swing your brother's stubbornness into something more flexible. It won't be easy but by then it would be worth the effort…"

Georgiana smiled at her.

"Thank you, Lizzy! I'm…"

Nobody would ever know what she was going to say since the door of the parlor swung open and a group of liveried footmen rushed into the room.

And the pistols they were all holding in their hands were rather threatening. Fear shown on the face of Mariah, one of the kitchen help one of the footmen was holding against him and threatening with a knife to her throat.

Jane's hand was on Georgiana's mouth before she could cry.


	24. Pemberley Hostage Game

Bad tides indeed...

* * *

**Chapter twenty four: ****Pemberley hostage game**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Monday the thirtieth August. **

* * *

With a quick swing the man holding Mariah punched her over the head and she soon fell unconscious on the floor of the parlor.

Lizzy and Jane looked at each other and their eyes had lost all good humor to become deadly serious.

All of Maureen's teachings came immediately to their minds and they looked at the situation with a detachment they would not have felt a few weeks earlier.

Their eyes began to assess the state of affairs in the parlor.

The men were too numerous for them to tempt anything. They would have to wait and grasp the next best occasion.

They immediately chose to stay calm and do nothing that the invaders could construe as a threat. The best thing they could do was to go on observing and assessing.

'Wait and see' was an adage Maureen had hammered into them at each training session.

'Don't do anything foolish and wait to grasp the right moment to act' was another of Maureen's commands.

And that moment had clearly not yet arrived.

One unconscious maid on the floor and seven armed men standing before the door looking at them was not something she could take with easiness.

From their faces she could decipher they were at the same time satisfied and surprised. Two of them were even showing worried faces.

The last one, the one with the knife who had just hit the maid showed nothing but a mix of pleasure with a mad look one can sometimes observe in the eyes of an ill man shaken by fever and illness. Jane looked him in the eyes and she saw that he was probably the most dangerous of the lot.

In a manner of speaking that man _was_ insane and there was no way to anticipate what he was about to do.

The mad man looked at her and his smile became feral.

She could feel his mood and she knew that he was thinking about striking her.

But he would try to strike her with his knife she saw it in his eyes.

And if he did she knew exactly what to do. That particular defensive move she had repeated probably a hundred times.

She forced herself to relax and to look into his eyes and to study the way he moved.

The weapon was not important. Everything she needed to know would appear in the eyes. And his movements would tell her how she would be able to dodge his blow.

His smile increased and he walked toward her when one of the men in the background, a bulky, brawny blond with a pair of earrings, stepped forward and placed himself just behind the madman.

Which was less surprising than the pistol appearing against the back of his head.

"I'm sorry my Lord but there will be a little change in our plans…"

And as he was saying that two other men had stepped forward and were holding their weapons against the heads of the two men standing in front of them.

The mad sparkle in the first man's eyes disappeared to be replaced by fear.

"What's the meaning of this, Sir? What are you doing? We…"

"Just changed our plans, Sir" answered the blond muscular one. "If you had not yet realized we are in the presence of Mrs. and Miss Darcy. I doubt very much it would be without consequences for our all well being if you went on with the former plan in front of madame's sisters. I suggest we postpone the deed until we are outside the Estate."

The two men who had not stepped toward Jane exchanged glances and she saw that they were pondering his uttered words.

The older of the two finally nodded.

"You're right, let's not do it in front of her sisters… We'll find a better place to do the deed somewhere else…"

The blond gave the madman a little stroke with the barrel of his weapon.

"I'd like to hear your acceptance Sir, . I fear I'm not very patient just now and it would be very reassuring for me to see you relax and if you would hand me your weapons."

"Do it…" said the oldest threatened man. "We really cannot do it in front of them…"

He bowed very respectfully in the general direction of the three sisters.

"We are sorry to disturb you, we had no idea you would be with…" his mouth trembled, "…her…"

Elizabeth looked at him and immediately understood who the she was his was speaking of and what their plans must be. Those men believed themselves to be gentlemen. It was high time to show them the error of their ways. She made no effort to hide her contempt and her resolution.

"Why would you be surprised to find us together, Sir?" She quite liked the little shudder she saw when she let them know that she had seen their true nature. "We are sisters as your words show without a doubt! And if you ignore it, let me give you important information: we are _very_ close sisters. And if something should happen to one of us, I can give you my word that those of us who would have escaped said happenstance would do their utmost to get the hides of those responsible for…" she hesitated, "…whatever it was that happened!"

Her eyes nailed the man literally against the wall.

"And let's be very clear, we'll have no rest until we have had our revenge and we will use every resource both our families are able to provide! So whatever fate you've decided to befall one of us, you'll better come to accept that you'll have no choice but to do the same to the others. And I very much doubt our husband and brothers will ever tend to forgive you."

She was more than satisfied to see the blood drain out of her adversary's face.

"We are your allies and fighters for England's freedom," stammered the madman. "We act for the good of our Country!"

Elizabeth turned a defiant eye toward him.

"Sorry if I don't agree with what you believe is the good of the Country. Where were you when the French armies were occupying said Country? Hiding in the sewers of London? Waiting until any real danger was over in order to let you choose a safe, defenseless and undefended target?"

She saw that her salvo was hitting hard. And she saw also that the men who were threatening the others were more than satisfied with what she was saying.

_I'm playing a role they appreciate. I'm going into a direction they want us to take. It's not the best I could do but now is not the moment to change my strategy even if a part of it plays against us. Now is the moment to save Jane's life. We'll find another opportunity to come out of this mess_.

She went on. "I can understand that you prefer attacking defenseless women and not combat experienced French veterans. Much less risky, isn't it? You act like cowards threatening women and you behave like scum coming out of the gutters. No real gentleman would have even contemplated such lowly and cowardly acts as you have…"

"That's quite enough," said the blond, interrupting her. "I do believe everybody has understood your message. Sorry to disappoint you but we are not going to make excuses and retire. We've come this far and we are going to take you with us. And your husbands and brothers will have to pay to get you back…"

Elizabeth saw that only the four who were threatening the others were prepared to this part of the plan. The other three were rather more than surprised.

"We can't," said madman. "It would be treason…"

"It's business as usual," explained the blond. "And believe me it's a lot more honorable than what you contemplated doing."

He looked at Elizabeth.

"You have a choice now. You can give us your word that you will follow us without trying to thwart our plans or you can be uncooperative."

He sighed. "In the first case there will be a lot of unnecessary dead people in this Estate when morning comes. Us included probably. Or, if I could convince you to be reasonable, we just walk out of here the same way we came in. Without bothering anybody and without causing more trouble than required. And, once we've arrived at our cozy little den, we await the news about the payment and, when we have the money, we disappear giving you three a half day's walk to the nearest road…"

The older gentleman tried to protest.

"That's not what we planned…"

"That's not what _you_ planned! But it was, since the beginning what I planned! Do you really believe I would have let you kill d'Arcy's wife? Do you really believe I'm crazy enough to let you kill the wife of the man who, like it or not, is the Master of all the British Isles? I'm an outlaw, man but I'm not ready to die under a torturer's knife! And that's exactly what would occur to us if anything should happen to her. So let's be very clear about our objectives, shall we? I'm not against helping the cause of freeing England by providing money and other means… But I'm very much against becoming England's most wanted killer! So we'll go out, hide a few days in the woods and after having been paid I'll let you, dear gentlemen, bear the prestige of the first successful action against the ugly occupier. Your name will go down in history while I'll go down to some welcoming and foreign country… Everybody will be happy, even these ladies' husbands and brothers who will be very glad to have their wives and sisters back unhurt!"

He inhaled deeply.

"And this ends my speech…"

He turned toward his last free accomplice.

"Please do gag the ladies… We are sure that they have understood the essence of my arguments but we wouldn't risk one of them waking the whole household because of a cumbersome fall during our escape, would we?"

He looked at Elizabeth and than at Jane and Georgiana.

"The next days won't be easy but it will only be a passing trouble. In a few days everybody will be back to normal and you'll laugh at your little adventure. So, please, do not give us more trouble than necessary…"

Jane and Elizabeth exchanged glances and nodded to each other.

There would be an opportunity but they would have to wait for it.

For now everything was under control and the greatest risk they would encounter would be a discovery by French guards who would probably be less than happy to see their ward being kidnapped.

So they let the last man gag them and tie their hands in front of them.

Both had followed Maureen's lessons about the right way to hold your hands while letting someone tie them. In time, they would be able to loosen the cords and to free themselves. But not yet.

Now was a time for patience and forbearance.

* * *

Maureen had been surprised by the arrival of such a great group of liveried men.

Normally she would have stopped them but she soon noticed that those footmen were bearing very strange and unusual tools.

And they were in the ladies' parlor before she could stop them.

That was a bad thing since she was now in an ugly and cumbersome hostage situation! She could call for help but that would trigger all manner of nasty –_and dangerous_– reactions from guards to husbands. And she was really not interested in organizing a bloodbath the first night of d'Arcy absence.

She sneaked to the door and put her ear on the panel. There was still silence. Nobody had reacted yet…

_Think, girl, think! What's the best thing to do_?

They could already be trying to kill them. If so, they would use knives. Shooting at the ladies would be suicide and most people she knew were not ready to die even for the sake of a cause.

She would have been more worried about that if there would have been only one or two people who had invaded the ladies' privacy.

There was no strategy for combatting seven people ready to commit suicide, save going straight into the history books. Even Irish men were not that foolish.

And if they used knives they were in for a nasty surprise. She had reckoned seven footmen and a maid. The maid likely being the hostage they took to guide them.

Which meant that they were, if she intervened, only three against seven…

Not enough to get a clear victory but perhaps enough to give her ward a chance to run toward the window. They were on the third floor and she would probably injure herself, but with what she had learned she would be able to land on her feet and survive the jump. She would probably still be conscious and able to ask for help.

Not the best of all worlds but then a world where she would be alive and free.

_Listen, girl. If they try to kill her, she'll get the killer and there will be shouts and cries. It'll be your turn to get in_…

Then she heard the voice.

Muffled and not understandable but the tone was reasonable. Not threatening as it would have been if they had chosen to be more direct.

After a few seconds she decided to stop trying to understand what was said.

The door panel was too thick and they spoke too softly.

She should have run to get help but she could not take the risk. If things became ugly therein she would burst in and attack the nearest foes.

And, with hope Jane and Elizabeth would take the opportunity and flee.

But having got quite a glimpse into their psyches she doubted that they would just run and let her and Georgiana alone. But that was for the future. For now she had only to listen and to be prepared to do what would be crucial to their survival. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

"Let's move," said the blond. "And please don't forget that if anything occurs, it will be more than a blood bath. So, please, do think of all the people who could lose their lives because of an unlucky gesture…"

He looked at 'madman'.

"Since you're without a weapon and you're so good at that job, please could you scout for us? We need to go to the basement without being seen… Would you be so kind?"

'Madman' grumbled but nodded after the older man made a little sign to convince him to accept. One minute later he was listening at the door.

* * *

Maureen knew immediately what had happened when, after hearing a man's approach, there was only silence.

Slowly and without making a sound she stepped back toward the stairs they used to gain entrance and they would likely use to return. Better to be in front than behind. Luckily there had been no attempt to kill her wards. That part was good.

But now it was probably the beginning of a kidnapping; which was not good at all.

She would try to follow as long as possible but she knew that at one moment or the other she would find herself stranded and unable to follow afoot if somewhere, as it was probable, they had horses waiting.

She sighed and thought frantically what to do next.

She ran down a flight and looked into the corridor.

The Bennets were hosted in these quarters.

Perhaps, with a bit of luck…

She ran towards the door where Mr. and Mrs. Bennet had their little suite.

She knocked once and the door immediately opened.

Mr. Bennet looked up with more than a little surprise in his eyes.

"Miss O'Sullivan? What?"

She stopped him with an imperative gesture.

"There are armed men in the house and they have your daughters and Miss Darcy as hostages. Don't raise the alarm immediately. I'll try to follow them and I'll mark the way with chalk signs. Follow if you want but let a few horses be prepared and ready. I don't know how they came into the house without having been seen, but here they are and they already have their hostages. Don't make the mistake of being too visible, I'm quite sure they would not hesitate to kill if they are cornered…"

She turned and it was only at that moment that she saw that Mrs. Bennet was also in the room.

She was quite surprised to see that she was calm and not in the least flustered.

"I'll have to go. I'll wait downstairs and follow them. I'm counting on you…"

And with these words she was gone.

* * *

Mrs. Bennet looked at her husband.

"The weather seems fine, dear, but you should perhaps take a coat and your pistols. You'll probably need them. Go fetch Fitzwilliam, I'll prepare everything for you…"

He looked at her with surprise in his eyes.

"You know about my weapons?"

She smiled at him.

"I've always known that you had them hidden in your closet, dear… Don't forget I married an officer and I was sure you hadn't thrown them away before we married. Besides, don't forget, I'm a woman and curiosity is one of our most outstanding qualities…" She showed him the door. "Go now, time is of the essence…"  
He went to the door and stopped.

"Aren't you worried? We just heard that our daughters were kidnapped…"

"Of course I'm worried, but of what use would it be if I let my nerves get the upperhand? You'll find them, I'm sure of it! And really you are in a hurry, you should go now. Fitzwilliam needs to know and to make all the necessary decisions."

He shook his head, smiled a last time at his surprising wife and departed in a hurry.


	25. Pemberley Hunt

The hunt is organized...  
_

* * *

**Chapter twenty-five: Pemberley Hunt**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Monday the thirtieth, August. Evening and night.  
**_

* * *

Maureen knew all of the guards' positions. Nobody could have entered the manor without being seen by one or two sentries. And those sentries were not sloppy. They had learned in the Syrian deserts that sloppiness was the very first step to death.

No, the kidnappers had used another way to gain entrance. Perhaps this manor, like all the old castles, had a secret passage coming in and out of the cellar. Should she take the risk and precede them? If there was a secret passage and she was not in the immediate vicinity, she would never know how to open it. She had to take the risk if she wanted to be able to protect her ward.

She ran to the kitchen, grabbed the two lamps which were always prepared in case something happened outside, and looked at Mrs. Reynolds' mistrustful eyes.

"There are strangers in the house, and they have Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Madame d'Arcy as hostages. I informed Mr. Bennet, and he's probably informing Mr. Darcy right now. Take everybody out of the corridors and the stairs. It's best to let them exit the house before attempting anything against them."

Mrs. Reynolds, who was quite fond of the Bennet ladies, looked at Maureen with quite a bit of hostility in her eyes. Was this person not labeled a bodyguard?

"How did they reach the ladies?"

Maureen could only smile at the question which had haunted her since she first saw the footmen opening the parlor door. She never should have left the sisters alone! From now on, there would no longer be any secrets, but she would share them all.

"There are seven of them; they are wearing Pemberley liveries, and they are armed. They were at the parlor door before I saw the weapons. I'm not yet familiar enough with all the manor servants' faces to have been able to recognize strangers… Had I recognized them, I would probably be dead, and it's not sure they wouldn't be entrenched with hostages in just the same parlor."

Mrs. Reynolds, sorry to be so easily read, smiled an apology.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Yes, you did, and you are right: I should have been inside with them. Next time I will be, sister talk or not…"

She took the lamps and opened the door.

"I think they came through a secret passage whose entrance is in the cellar. I'll go there and wait for them. Please have a footman survey the stairs in case they use another way…"

Just as she was exiting, Mrs. Reynolds called her back.

"The secret passage is in the wine cellar. It's the central barrel. You open it by rotating the coat of arms over the tap to the left."

Maureen was immediately back.

"You know where it comes out?"

Mrs. Reynolds shook her head.

"No, and I was sure that nobody, save me, knew of its existence. Even Mr. Darcy knows nothing of it. It was renowned to be dangerous, and old Mr. Darcy asked Mr. Wickham to close it definitely. I saw him transport the bricks to the cellar. And he did it with only the help of my husband and old Jeremiah."

Maureen shook her head.

"That explains a lot. No brick wall has ever stopped decided men… But it doesn't explain how they knew there was a brick wall to topple…"

She inhaled lengthily.

"But that's for another time. I'll go to the cellar and, with luck, still be able to precede them… With even more luck, I'll be at the exit of that tunnel before them, and if that is the case, I know a bunch of riders who will regret not wearing good walking shoes…" She smiled toward Mrs. Reynolds. "I'm gone…"

And as the door was closed, she did not hear Mrs. Reynolds' 'Good luck.'  
_

* * *

They were following a straight and dusty tunnel. Jane was quite astonished by the way Lizzy and Georgiana had positioned themselves before and behind her, just in case the would-be killers could get a weapon and go back to their first plan. She had never doubted that Lizzy would stand up to protect her, as she would herself to protect each and all of her sisters! But Georgiana's fierce protectiveness had astounded her. She had not hesitated a second to put herself between Jane and the would-be assassins.

What was even more astonishing was the deference the killers were showing toward Miss and Mrs. Darcy. 'Madman' had even begun, since they were walking in the tunnel, to try to justify his actions to Georgiana. Having lagged behind, Jane had not heard everything, but what she had heard was enough to persuade her that he was trying –hard– to convince her that he and his accomplices were honorable men fighting for an honorable cause whose success asked for some unsavory sacrifices.

Killing her would be just such a sacrifice.

Rather unconvinced, Georgiana began to speak louder, and 'Madman,' taken by his defense, followed suit.

"There's nothing honorable in a murder," Georgiana was saying rather vehemently. "People who resort to such tactics while they pretend themselves gentlemen are even more to blame than those whose education or lack thereof could bring them to believe that every goal justifies the means. Being a murderer and a gentleman are mutually exclusive, sir! And nothing you will say could ever convince me –or any other gentle lady– of the contrary…"

"It's not common murder, miss… It's more of a symbol. To show all of England that treason would never go unpunished."

"Treason?" shouted Georgiana. "Since when is an honorable wedding proceeded before a man of the cloth treason, sir?"

"Since it was a marriage to an invader," retorted 'Madman.' "As a well-bred English maiden, Miss Bennet should have refused to be wed to an enemy…"

Georgiana snorted.

"You're even worse than I thought, sir!" said she with an audible contempt in her voice. "You and your brethren are the first to refuse us women the right to choose our own lives and are always ready, when it pleases you, to reduce us to mere bargaining chips! But clearly that doesn't prevent you from finding those of us who do just what you want –when it is not in your interest– guilty of treason nevertheless…"

"He is the invasion's commander…"

"He is rich and titled and famous," countered Georgiana. "And that's exactly what we are taught to seek as husband material. And since, to you, we are mere brainless bargaining chips, it seems rather unfair to hold against her a situation in which any other woman would have had no say…"

"But she had!" protested he.

"Which means that the real reason you want to kill my sister is not because she married an enemy, but because she had the presumptuousness to place herself over the general dictate of a world where men are the only ones who are able to decide?" She shot an ugly look at him. "And that, sir, says a lot about your real motivations and who you consider to be your real enemy! Not to mention that it is so much easier to kill a defenseless woman than a dangerous enemy commander…"

"Nobody will be killed," said a voice coming from the front. "If we got the money, you'll be back in Pemberley in less than three days. Consider the present journey as an interruption in your difficult lives as important men's wives."

"Mockery will bring you nothing," countered Georgiana, who was quite upset.

"Thirty thousand pounds to me and a safe return for you," replied the leader. "If we are cautious there, everybody should come out of this little adventure unscathed and wiser."

Georgiana opened her mouth to answer when Jane's hand came to rest on her arm.

"No need," whispered Jane. "On a certain level, he is right. He has saved my life, and his solution is the only one which will give every one of us a satisfying outcome."

Georgiana looked at her and nodded. Jane saw that her anger had not abated, but she was agreeing to stay calm, and for the moment, that was what was needed. The killer had been stopped, but that did not mean he had definitely aborted his project. Better to let the tempers calm down. An opportunity would present itself, she was sure of it. And if it did, she would grasp it.  
_

* * *

They were already engaged in the tunnel. She could no longer try to run toward the exit and steal their horses. From the perspective of her safety, she was more than a little relieved. Now, she had no choice but to follow, and they would open the way for her. But follow she would, and that as long as possible.

Fitzwilliam Darcy had taken the news with more calm that Mr. Bennet would have bet. He had listened and immediately called Mrs. Reynolds, who was just behind the door waiting for his call.

"I've already warned Mr. Matthews, sir. He should be here within the next quarter of an hour. And after summoning your head hunter, my messenger had orders to round up as many of your hunters as possible. They should be ready as soon as you have made your decisions."

Fitzwilliam nodded and looked at his father-in-law. He was quite surprised with himself. Elizabeth, his Elizabeth had just been kidnapped, and he found himself focused and not in the least panicked.

Mr. Bennet, who could read his son's mood with great accuracy, smiled at him.

"The fear will come, son. But not yet. Now you know that you need a clear and decisive mind! So you'll do what has to be done to get them back. The counter effect will come when everything is behind us."

He didn't say "for good or bad," but it was implied.

"What do we know?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"They came through the old secret passage," said Mrs. Reynolds, and seeing her master's frown immediately went on. "Your father ordered it closed some twenty years ago. I believed it condemned and no longer usable. I had no..."

"It's not your fault, Mrs. Reynolds," cut in Fitzwilliam. "I should have asked if there were such things. How did they learn of its existence?"

Mrs. Reynolds shrugged.

"I have no idea, sir. I'm the last living one who should have had knowledge of its existence."

"Do you know where it comes out?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"No, sir. I never used it, and my old master never spoke about it. Somewhere toward the Peaks, I believe. But I'm not sure..."

Mr. Bennet looked his son-in-law in the eyes.

"They are afoot in this tunnel. It will take them time to get out. We should send men out to search for horses hidden and tied in the woods."

"We could," countered Fitzwilliam, "but before sending anyone out, I would prefer to look at all our options. Should we not follow them in the passage secretly?"

Mr. Bennet made a face, showing that that solution was not to his liking.

"We don't want them to be cornered in a dirty underground tunnel. Too much could happen and, if there's a firefight, we could kill one or more of the girls. They haven't killed anybody yet, so they probably did what they did with a purpose in mind, political or financial or perhaps both. They have a reason to let them live; I would hate to be the one who gave them a reason to kill them." He stepped closer to his son-in-law and placed his hand on his shoulder. "It's really better if we do not corner them down there."

"And I do believe Miss O'Sullivan is already following them," said Mrs. Reynolds. "She took the safety lamps in the kitchen and announced that she would try to use the passage before them. I learned from a footman who saw her as she went into the basement that she wasn't followed. We must conclude that they were already in the basement and she is behind them."

"And she will probably do nothing but follow," said Mr. Bennet. "She wants to know where they come out, and she wants even more to know where they will go once out of the passage."

He sighed.

"And really, son, there are already too many people who know about that passage. Sending a troop down there to follow the kidnappers is not a good idea!"

Fitzwilliam nodded and sighed.

"I'll take your advice on that point. If we don't rush after them in that passage, what else could we do?"

Mr. Bennet shook his head and exhaled heavily.

"I know it will be difficult for you to accept, and please do take into consideration that two of the hostages are my daughters before hitting me, but I really believe that the best thing to do just now is nothing!"

"Nothing?" shouted Fitzwilliam, showing for the first time that, even if he seemed calm, he was more than upset.

"Indeed, nothing," said Mr. Bennet. "We don't know enough to lay out a battle plan. If we had a precise idea of the exit of that passage, I would already be galloping toward it to prepare an ambush. But since we know nothing of the sort, what we have to do is wait. Wait 'til we know where they are."

"How will we learn?"

"Send as many men as possible in the general direction they are going to take, and let everybody know that we are looking for a dozen riders coming from Pemberley. And as soon as they are sighted, we want to know where they were seen and where they were going."

He shook his head.

"It's not certain that we will get results, but it's far better than trying a chase in the middle of the night with nervous, tired, and upset people who will be seeing ghosts and enemies where, in reality, there are friends or neighbors." He looked his son-in-law in the eyes. "I know it's difficult, but a night chase is a very dangerous endeavor, and I'm sure I don't want such a nightmare organized while my daughters and your sister are somewhere in the thick of it..."

Fitzwilliam nodded his approval. He was not happy, but he could see his father-in-law's arguments. They would find Elizabeth and the others, but they would do what was necessary to find them alive and safe.

He turned toward Mrs. Reynolds.

"Let's go find my hunters and every lad who's able to ride a horse. We have a message to get out as soon as possible."


	26. Peaks Hideout

The hunt goes on...  
_

* * *

**Chapter twenty-six: Peaks Hideout**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Tuesday the thirty-first, August. Night and morning.  
**_

They finally came out of the tunnel, covered with cobwebs and grime, but in good health. Their slippers wouldn't hold much longer, but nobody had been injured. To the surprise of everybody but Adams, when they came to the horses, they were jumped by a half dozen dangerous-looking fellows who were guarding the place.

"Don't be worried; those are friends. I called them because I knew we could use a few more hands this morning."

His smile was sly and directed toward the three gentlemen who were, since recently, making very unhappy faces.

Adams, who had forgotten to introduce himself to the ladies, bowed in their direction.

"We have horses for you, ladies; you're done with walking."

Elizabeth could not resist making a last attempt.

"It's not too late. Let us go, and I swear that nobody will ever search for you..."

Adams smiled.

"I'm sure you believe it, but I'm equally sure that your sister's husband won't give a damn for your promises and hunt us down just because we scared his wife. He has a reputation of being very ruthless when it comes to family matters." He smiled toward Jane. "And I doubt very much he'll take the fact that we kidnapped his wife with detachment, even if he could be persuaded that the kidnapping saved her life. So I do believe that I'll have a better chance of surviving with a few thousand pounds in my pocket than just with my life, horse, and weapons."

"You can't be sure Fitzwilliam will pay..." insisted Elizabeth.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure, Mrs. Darcy. I've listened to every rumor about you and him in this vicinity, and if there's one certain thing for the people of this county, it's that he is madly in love with his wife, and I'm sure that he would never risk losing his beloved just for being a miser. No, Mrs. Darcy, he will pay, and when he has paid, he will get you back. I'm quite sure that getting you back will be quite an intense moment in both your lives..."

That brought out general laughter from his men and a blush –fortunately hidden by the night– on Elizabeth's cheeks.

"Well, we do not have the whole night," added Adams, turning toward Lord Soames. "I fear there will be a few more changes in our plans, dear sirs." He pointed toward a group of three men who were standing aside, wearing very strange clothes. "As you see, these lads are wearing clothes that were chosen to give the impression that they are women. With them in tow, you will proceed as you had in mind at the beginning of our little trip, straight toward West and Wales."

The oldest of the gentlemen stepped forward.

"You want us to play the bait for Darcy's searching parties..."

Adams grinned at him.

"What's the problem? You do exactly as planned. You wanted to run; you'll be running! Just that this time, your flight will be useful for everybody..." He stopped, and his tone became very threatening. "You better hurry if you want to be there before tomorrow night. Once there, go to the coast and don't waste time before finding a ship sailing abroad; I'm quite sure d'Arcy's bad mood will be felt even in the free Kingdom of Wales. With a bit of luck, having his wife back alive will lessen his desire for revenge and make him forget the three gentlemen whose project was to kill said wife..."

"What about the ransom?" asked Washford.

"You'll get your part, don't be worried. I'm very interested that you survive as long as possible, and the money will give you the means to do just that..."

He pointed toward the horses and the disguised men.

"Now, you should go; our paths diverge here..."

"We'll see each other again, Adams," grumbled Washford.

"And you'll die, Washford," countered Adams with a smile. "But since, thanks to your pettiness, d'Arcy will now know our names, I doubt it very much that you'll survive long enough to give me the opportunity to gut you..." Nobody saw his feral smile. "And if you're still here in five seconds, I'll be induced to blabber a few other interesting names..."

That was enough for Washford and his friends to run toward their horses, mount up, and give them the spurs.

Once they were out of sight, Adams chuckled and pointed the ladies toward three white horses equipped with special ladies' saddles.

"Please, let me help you up. We have quite a few miles to go before arriving to our base camp."

A few minutes later, they were moving in the shadows of the wood.  
_

* * *

Maureen had listened to every word exchanged by the two leaders, and she had been very surprised to recognize the voice of one of them. Adams' voice was a well-known one in d'Arcy's English and Irish headquarters, with the little difference that she had never known his name, and she was quite sure that, 'til now, it had never been Adams.

She wondered if he was here on a mission organized by d'Arcy or just because he had found a way to infiltrate the band that was preparing the assassination attempt. That part was already ruined, and she was quite sure that with Adams playing the role of the bandits' leader, her ward was running no real risk.

Now she was facing quite a dilemma. What was Adams' goal? And, even more importantly, what was d'Arcy goal? Of course she could not speak about what she knew. Adams was one of d'Arcy's men, as was she. She would not betray him. She decided that the best thing to do would be to forget that she knew the bandits' leader. She would speak with d'Arcy, and he would, perhaps, give her an explanation.

Meanwhile, the best she could do was try to follow the troop that was just disappearing in the darkness of the woods. It would not be easy with the night and in a country where she had no knowledge of the area, but she would try, and the longer she followed, the easier it would be for the specialists of the country to find the area where the bandits had their camp.  
_

* * *

What Maureen didn't know was that she was not alone surveying the little band of thugs. Three other pairs of eyes were following each and every move of the people who had invaded their hunting ground.

They had spotted them the day before, while they were discreetly scouting the land. And if there was one thing poachers did not like, it was strangers with too great a curiosity. So the strangers had been followed as often as possible. And with six more coming through the village this very evening, it was not surprising that the chief poacher himself had chosen to shadow them.

Willoughby snorted.

"Will, you go back to the village, you go to Cowdon, and you tell him everything we saw and heard. He has none of our bad reputation with the master, and he'll get it to Mr. Darcy. Then you go home and you wait till we return."

Will, the youngest Willoughby son, made a face. He knew that his father and his brother were just beginning a very interesting night.

"We could get them," he whispered. "They are only seven, and if we follow them, we could get them all. They'll go to sleep soon and then..."

Willoughby grunted once more.

"We could, but that's not what's in our best interest. Mrs. Darcy is already our friend. We need to give Mr. Darcy an opportunity to be in our debt. It's much better if he gets the opportunity to save his wife and his sisters..."

He smiled at his youngest son.

"Good for the master, good for his people... That's a saying you should never forget, son!" He shook his head. "Not that I have the least doubt that, with an ancient poacher as mistress, we will never be mistreated, but there are rumors roaming the estate that the young master is feeling himself less worthy than his mighty and dangerous French brother-in-law. T'would be a good thing to have him playing the hero for once..." He chuckled. "T'would be an even better thing to be the ones who got him said opportunity to play the hero!"

He looked his son in the eyes.

"So, yes, we could, but no, we won't... Now go, and don't lose 'rself in the woods!"

That got him a laugh, and soon Will was disappearing into the shadows.

Willoughby sighed and patted his eldest on the shoulder. Time to use this opportunity to verify his son's grasp of the situation.

"Where do you believe they are going?"

Matthew answered immediately.

"The rabbit pass! That's where they are going. And from there I'm not sure. If I had to choose, I'd say Grunt's hut..."

Willoughby smiled at his son's knowledge and wisdom.

"Let's go to rabbit's pass, son. We'll be there before them, and we will see what direction they'll choose. No need to guess if we can be sure..."

"What of the girl?"

"Let her follow... It could be that these men are fools and that they do foolish things. Better to have somebody behind them. When they have climbed rabbit's pass, if she is still behind them, we'll know that she's good and that it's a good idea to make contact. If she's no longer behind them, we'll have no need to make further contact."

He patted his eldest on the shoulder.

"Let's go, son; as you remember, it's not an easy trail..."

* * *

At one point in the trip, the trail became large enough to let them ride side by side. Jane grasped the opportunity to get to her sister's side.

"I have a horrible suspicion, Lizzy," she whispered.

"What suspicion? Is it perhaps that your husband is behind this little journey of ours?"

Jane was struck dumb by her sister's remark.

"How did you..."

"Same as you, probably. Adams knows about Wales," explained Lizzy. "And nobody outside the estate knows the least thing about it. Only one of your husband's men would know."

"He could be working for the King. Richard is spying for him. He could know..."

Lizzy snorted and looked at her sister.

"Too soon for the King's men to be able to organize something like that. No, I'm quite sure. Don't try to find an excuse for him, dear. It's him, without a doubt, and you know it as well as I..."

"Perhaps they do it without him knowing..." tried Jane.

"And it happens just the day after he goes to London with Richard? I no longer believe in coincidences while your husband is within a thousand miles of what is happening."

That last remark struck Jane with more than a little force. She had come to exactly the same conclusions as Lizzy, but she would have liked to be able to discuss the problem with Geoffrey before condemning him.

"What do you think is his goal?" asked Jane. "I have a suspicion, but I would not like to be too blunt with you, Lizzy..."

"Don't be worried, dear; I'm quite sure we have the same idea. It would not utterly astonish me if were saved by my husband and his men assaulting the bandits' den."

Jane made a little pouting sound.

"I must admit that the same scenario has passed my mind..."

She looked at the men guarding them.

"Do you believe he chose to sacrifice them?"

Lizzy looked at her sister and nodded. Jane was, as usual, more shocked than she was. The fact that she was looking at her husband's plot would have shaken her even more than usual. Of course d'Arcy had chosen to sacrifice these men or at least a few of them. And those who would be killed or captured by her husband would, she had no doubt at all, be identified as dangerous and ruthless bandits who, without Adams' presence, would have been much less pleasant with them.

"I'm sure this Adams has chosen well in order to give Fitzwilliam plausible enemies while getting rid of real dangerous scum..."

Jane couldn't help but sigh. She loved Geoffrey very much, but this side of him was very difficult to get used to. He just couldn't stop plotting and manipulating.

"I'm sorry..."

"No need to be. Fitzwilliam is really in need of something like that to get his confidence back. I can't deny that I was longing for a way to let him be his old confident Darcy self." She giggled. "You know, the old Rosings Darcy who really believed that nobody could resist him. And to be sure, I'll be very satisfied to get a cocksure and proud husband out of this little adventure..." She lowered her voice even more. "But be careful to be at your husband's side the next time he and I meet. Without you, I'm not sure I'll be able to resist to the compulsion to scratch his eyes out..."

_Not that there would be any risk for him,_ she thought. _But then, that's even more reason to show him that I'm very unhappy with his little plots. I swear I'll try!_  
_

* * *

"Here they are," said Willoughby, who had difficulty finding his breath.

_You're no longer the young man you believe you are._

He looked at his twenty-two-year-old son and sighed.

Perhaps it would be a good idea to accept Mrs. Darcy's offer and enter into her service. Hers, not the service of Pemberley. He would get a hefty wage and would be solely at the service of the mistress.

"I want you to show me everything you know and I don't," she had proposed, "and I want you, later, to show those same things to my children. I want them to be real Derby dwellers knowing all the secrets of the land..." She had looked around them, and her eyes had lost focus as if she was inhaling the whole of what existed. "It's only when you know the land that you are able to love it. And you have to love it if you are to always protect it..."

She had focused on him and smiled.

"All the secrets of Longbourn I have learned from the best poacher I ever encountered. He was a fine man and a marvelous storyteller. That explains why I'm more than a little prejudiced toward poachers, Mr. Willoughby. I can't imagine another way to know the lay of the land... And I'm very impatient to hear all your marvelous stories..."

He had asked for a delay, and she had given it. And while running along long-forgotten paths, he had made his decision. He would teach her the lay of the land. And he –or his son– would do the same for the next masters of Pemberley.

"And they are going eastward, as I was guessing," said Matthew.

"Well," sighed his father. "No way to get there before them. I fear we have no choice but to follow."

His son looked at him.

"Should I not go to Pemberley to give them the lay of the bandits' lair?"

Willoughby nodded, biting his lips.

"Yes and no... I'm not sure! It's rather a delicate matter. As of now, they should have Will's report. And with Will's report, were I in their shoes, I would have jumped on a horse in order to come as soon as possible to the general vicinity of the last sure sighting. That means that you'll probably arrive when everybody is gone and halfway here." He shook his head. "No, no need for you to run back. It would be a waste of energy. The real question is whether your brother was able to see where they were heading."

Matthew's smile could be seen even in the blackest of night.

"He should have and probably did. But then, it's not him who will be making the report to Mr. Darcy. We can't be sure, Dad, we can't be sure..."

Willoughby sighed.

"Then we have no choice. What do you prefer? Stalking the riders or waiting for the rescue party?"

His son took a few seconds to think.

"You stalk and I wait... It will be easier for Mr. Darcy to acknowledge me. I quite remember that he doesn't really like you..."

"His wife likes me, which is worth a lot more, but you're right... I'll go and help Mrs. Darcy, and you go fetch Mr. Darcy..."

When Matthew stood up to go, his father grasped his arm.

"Give me your knives. I'll need them more than you."  
_

* * *

Maureen was quite surprised when she heard someone speaking to her.

"Not bad, miss, to have been able to follow while in strange country and by night... If I had to bet, I would have bet on your losing them."

She turned around, but saw nothing.

"Please, we are allies; put that knife back where it belongs. I'm here to offer you a safe and quiet journey to their camp site. And there we'll wait 'til my son comes with the rest of the rescue party. It should happen just at dawn."

Maureen decided that if the man had had the will to kill her, she would already be dead.

"I'll be glad to have a guide; I'm growing tired, and it's becoming more and more difficult not to make mistakes."

"Well, let's rest for a few minutes then. We are in no hurry; I don't believe that the ladies risk more than a little discomfort."

"For now," said Maureen. "When the assault begins, it could be a little more dangerous than that."

"That's why we will give them a bit of warning ahead of time."

He saw her smile in the night.

"That would be a good idea... Would you happen to have something to drink? I exited the house in rather a hurry. I just took a bottle of wine, and I'm not sure it would be a good idea to go on drinking wine..."

"Well, let's trade," said Willoughby. "I have water and some bread and cheese. With wine, it will be perfect. You interested?"

"I'm famished," agreed Maureen. "And a sip of water would be perfect."


	27. Peaks Ladies' Choice

The hunt comes to an end...  
_

* * *

**Chapter twenty-seven: Ladies' Choice**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Tuesday the thirty-first, August. Dawn.  
**_

* * *

Adams was worried.

He was sure they had been followed while in the tunnel, but he had no idea if the lone stalker had had the means to follow them after they mounted. And a great deal depended on his being able to follow or not. The men he trusted and cared for were all riding toward Wales, and nobody would lose even a minute to follow them. And the rest of his 'squad' was not worth the bullets they were going to take in a few hours' time.

But there was the little problem of his own survival. If he was unlucky, he would end up in middle of a firefight where he was playing the ugly role of the ringleader. He liked his new boss, but he was a long way from accepting his own death as a token of his loyalty.

The problem he was facing was simple. If he disappeared, his men would be without supervision. And from what he knew of them, they would not hesitate to do things their captives would regret. So he just couldn't disappear. Neither could he give orders and go bring his "ransom" message to Pemberley. He was sure that his men would see it as a real opportunity to make merry with their guests. And he could very well imagine how his boss would react if anything like that should happen. Excuses would not convince him to be lenient.

If the stalker had lost them, he knew what to do. Everything was in place and should go in a smooth and efficient manner. If, on the other hand, the stalker had not lost them and had been able to get a message to Pemberley, he could very well be facing an assault as early as dawn.  
And even if the poetic and tragic meaning of such an assault was very clear in his mind, he was nevertheless very conscious that at dawn, nothing of what he had prepared would be ready, and he would be standing in the crossfire of two opposite forces he didn't belong to...

He should have shot the stalker, but that had never been the plan. The most probable thing was that the stalker was working for the same boss as himself, and it just wasn't done to kill a member of your own team, even if it makes your life so much easier.

Blast the Boss and his ever more convoluted schemes. Most of the time, it was fun to work for him. But how was it possible for a simple captain to follow if he was adding layers and layers of unexpected difficulties each time you were looking elsewhere?

A whistle coming from the front alerted him that they were approaching their destination, the perfect campsite with two buildings. A tiny one, probably an old tool house, was built out of solid logs and had been outfitted with a solid floor. There they would put the ladies, and there, thanks to the solid walls, they would be safe even in the event of a firefight. The other, a hut in itself, was much older and less strongly built. There the men would be able to sleep and rest without even seeing the captives at all. And that was probably the main reason the Boss had chosen this particular site. "Out of sight, out of mind" was a very good motto when you were using men of very uncertain ethics.

Soon they came to the site, and within the first minute, he had delivered the captives into their holding cell.

"There's water in the bucket there, the box contains biscuits and salted pork, and the lidded bucket has to be used for everything else you should need to do. Sorry for the ugly arrangements, but for your sake, I don't want you out and I don't want them in!"

He showed them the basic lock at the inner side of the door.

"Nobody but me has the authorization or any good reason to come in here. Even I will not come to bother you. It could happen that I have to tell you something, but it's very unlikely, and I'd do it from outside. Be warned that it's not safe to let anyone save me enter. So if it's not me or if I'm not alone, just leave the lock bolted and stay still. This building is strong and should resist quite a few efforts. As soon as we have the money, we will decamp and give the information of your location to your parents. Any questions?"

"Who are you working for?" asked Elizabeth, looking him in the eyes.

"Who? But Darcy, of course," was his answer, and he had been very thorough in pronouncing it the English way of speaking. With a last knowing smile, he slipped out of the little building and closed the door.

Jane and Lizzy looked at each other since, in spite of his pronunciation, they had no doubt that his words were misinformation in order to cover up that d'Arcy was really behind this operation.

Not so, of course, with Georgiana.

"Liar," she cried against the door. "He has nothing to do with this! He's..."

"Calm yourself," said Jane, hugging her sister. "He was only playing us for fools. We know that your brother has nothing to do with this kidnapping. The true culprit is, I'm sure of it, to be found around London. We'll get at him some day; you can count on me for that..."

Georgiana turned around and fell into Jane's arms. She was quite upset and shaken up with what she had just heard.

"Thanks," she whispered. "Fitzwilliam would never..."

"I know, dear," answered Jane, also whispering. "I know. Since I have known him, your brother has always shown that he is a real gentleman. Were he not, Lizzy never would have accepted him. Be sure that nobody would believe such lies. Especially not members of the Bennet family."

"Of course not," added Lizzy, not whispering at all. "Why should we believe a highwayman whose only motivation is greed and mischief?"

Georgiana looked at her with surprised eyes and immediately glanced over her shoulder.

"Hush, Lizzy, he could hear you..."

"I hope he does hear us," said Elizabeth, speaking even louder. "Why should we be scared by a bunch of lazy, rotten, stinking thugs?"

"Please, Lizzy," Georgiana said with a trembling voice. "They could hear you and be upset..."

"I've no..." Lizzy began when she was interrupted by Jane.

"Georgiana is right, Lizzy; we would not want the whole bunch to answer to your insults..."

Lizzy's smile was immediately even more feral.

"You're right. Let's do it more cleverly..." She looked at Jane. "One or two?"

"Let's begin with one, Lizzy. It will be our first real fighting bout. We should be prudent..."

Lizzy seemed a little disappointed.

"With two, there would be only five left, Jane."

"I do agree, Lizzy, but, as I said, we should be careful our first time. We could be unlucky and get a tough one."

Lizzy seemed unhappy, but nodded and accepted her elder sister's advice.

"How do we proceed?"

"As you said, that's a greedy bunch; I'm sure each and every one of them will come if he sees a chance to get something precious without having to share it with his partners."

Lizzy winked at her sister.

"I'm sure there could be even more effective incentives..."

Jane shook her head, pointing at Georgiana.

"I don't think it will be necessary, Lizzy. They flock toward riches in the same manner as," she hesitated, "toward those other things..."

Lizzy made a face, but accepted her sister's argument.

"Well, you're the eldest, so I shall obey. How do we proceed?"

Jane went to the door and pried open a slit, then another one.

"Through here, we can see the other building. I'm sure he will order some guard patrols around the site. When we are sure that there's only one, we'll call him."

Georgiana looked at her sisters wide eyed and open mouthed.

"But haven't you listened to what he said? We are to stay here and do nothing... Jane, Lizzy, these men are dangerous! Even their leader is afraid of what they could do to us. And he should know!"

Jane sniffed and looked at her little sisters.

"He should be afraid of what we could do to them," she said with a little dismissive snort. "And soon you'll see what I mean..."

"Just one thing," added Lizzy. "Please don't shout when what is going to happen happens. It would just spoil all the fun..."

* * *

"We should have gone for two," said Jane, just after the man had lost consciousness.

"We should have," said Lizzy, who had just felled a man twice her size. She smiled at her sister. "That was efficient!"

"Maureen has always been adamant on the sequence," agreed Jane. "Foot kick to the groin, knee kick to the nose, and a palm hit on the neck..."

"He didn't even see it coming," said Lizzy, quite excited by her first real knockout. "He just puffed once before falling..."

She knelt beside the man and checked to see if he was still conscious.

"He's still alive... His nose is broken though!"

"Thank God he's still alive," interrupted Georgiana, still quite astonished by her sister's deed. "Imagine if he were dead..."

"Indeed," added Jane. "Let's thank God that he is still alive. I wouldn't want to live with the guilty conscience of having killed a poor man..."

Lizzy, not quite as emotive as her sisters, only nodded and went on taking the man's weapons and gear. Had he been dead, she wouldn't have lost a tear because of his fate. But she could very well understand her sister's reluctance to become a killer. And if she thought about it a little more thoroughly, she was quite relieved herself. Had she had the strength of a man, she probably would have killed him.

"Jane, we are probably not strong enough to kill a man with such a short sequence," she explained as she began to undress the fallen man. "But a longer one probably could have just that result. We should be careful..."

"I agree," said Jane. "We will be."

Georgiana finally came out of her stunned state.

"What just happened here, Lizzy? What have you done?"

Lizzy looked at her sister and shrugged.

"I kicked him in the groin, then I kicked him in the nose, and finally, I struck him on the neck."

The matter-of-fact answer didn't convince Georgiana.

"I saw what you did, Lizzy. What I'd like to know is how you could do it..."

Jane, who was surveying the building, interrupted her.

"We'll explain everything, Georgiana, but later, not now. Now we have to go, while nobody has any idea of what happened."

"I have everything we need," said Lizzy, standing up. "Let me put on his cape and hat, and I'll go out first."

"Stand before the door for a moment. I'd like to know if anyone has seen him coming in."

"T'will be done, Master," said Lizzy, completing her disguise. "We'll soon see..."

She slipped through the door Jane opened and leaned against it, looking at the greater building from under the visor of her hat.

"Nothing seems to move," she said after a few minutes. "They have seen nothing."

"Well, walk around the hut and describe it for us. We'll need to..."  
_

* * *

"He just entered their prison," said Willoughby. "We must step in..."

"What for?" asked Maureen, grasping the man's shoulder and holding him back. "He went in by his free will. He'll get what he deserves."

"He'll try to rape them..."

"Not for very long, I guess," answered Maureen. "We'll soon see if my pupils were listening!"

"We can't..." shouted Willoughby, immediately silenced by a very powerful hand movement.

"Stop it, man; they risk nothing from one lone man. Do you hear shouts or cries?"

He listened and could only admit that the three women were staying very silent...

"What's happening?"

"A bad man is just taking a beating," answered Maureen with a feral smile. "And in a few minutes, we will see the prisoners dashing toward the forest..."

"You seem very sure of yourself," grumbled Willoughby. "Don't forget these are ladies we speak of..."

Maureen chuckled.

"Not normal ladies, Mr. Poacher. Remember everything you told me about them. No real lady has a past as a poacher, wouldn't you agree? So nothing normal will happen, you'll see..."

A few minutes later, a lone man slid out of the house and leaned against the door. Willoughby, who first swore, soon saw that the man's attitude was not normal.

"It's not him," he said after a moment. "It's one of them..."

Maureen let a sense of pride invade her. They were even better than she had thought. She would have bet a fortune that they would run as fast as possible toward the woods. But clearly, they were more cautious than that.

After a moment, the 'man' began to circle the 'prison.'

"She's surveying the surroundings," said Maureen. "She's looking for the best way to make their escape. Clever and coldblooded... I quite like that!"

"There's another one coming out of the building," said Willoughby.

"Not the leader," added Maureen. "And he is going toward the prison... He'll be surprised."  
_

* * *

"He's coming," said Georgiana. "What are we going to do?"

Jane looked at her youngest sister.

"You? You'll do nothing but observe... There's a lot to learn, you'll see..."

The man came to the door, which he saw was open. He pushed and looked into the room's darkness. He was very surprised to feel somebody grasping his nose and pulling. By sheer reflex, he entered the room, trying to grasp the hand that was pulling him by the nose. Just before he could grasp it, the hand let him go and got hold of his little finger... And from then on, everything began to circle around him without his own doing. He felt his finger turning, turned his hand to protect it, and soon felt his hand being pulled and stretched... And after his hand, it was his arm and then his shoulder, and then he was on the floor with a knife on his throat and a whisper in his ear.

"Just don't say a word, or I'll slit your throat without blinking... And since this knife is your late friend's, please take into account that it is very well prepared to do just that. Do we have an understanding?"

He nodded feebly since his whole thorax was under strenuous stress.

"Fine," whispered Jane. "I'm glad you are so cooperative. Now I'm going to force you to lie on your belly. You can resist and I'll dislocate your shoulder and your elbow, or you can follow the directions I'm giving. But first, I'd like you to open your mouth."

He did what he was told, and Georgiana pushed what was left of his partner's shirt into his mouth.

"Now we turn," said Jane, and within a few seconds, he was lying on his belly with Georgiana tying his hands behind his back.

"Cover his gag with another linen," Jane said to Georgiana. "And when it's done, please return to the door and look out for the others..."

A few seconds later, Georgiana was at her former place announcing that everything was clear.  
_

* * *

"And that makes two," said Maureen with a smile. "And everything without even a little shout... I'm quite proud of them. I just hope that their success won't make them careless..."

Willoughby sighed lengthily.

"We should do something..."

"Not yet," answered Maureen, "not yet... It could well be that us hiding here is of importance. Best not to be careless either. For now, nobody knows we're here and, in the end, it could make the difference between saving them or not."  
_

* * *

Georgiana heard a loud _thump_ and turned around, just seeing Jane putting the waste bucket back in its place.

"I needed him out," she said. "Take his cape and his hat and join Lizzy outside... As soon as you are with her, you do what you can to hide in the wood..."

"And you? What are you going to do?"

"I'm staying," answered Jane. "I have a rifle and a pistol and enough ammunition to convince them not to try to enter. But then, I won't need to convince them. To them, we are all still here inside, and they have no reason to suspect that you're gone. If they ask, I can answer, and that should do the trick."

"I can't..."

"You'll do exactly what I tell you."


	28. Peaks Last Stand

The hunt comes to an end...  
_

* * *

**Chapter twenty-eight: Peaks Last Stand**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Tuesday the thirty-first, August. Morning.  
**_

* * *

Adams was no longer worried. He knew this day would end badly, which was a good thing since it had been planned to end exactly that way. What he had not planned was to be here in the middle of the fight when it began. And that meant this his day could end badly! Not his usual way to proceed.

He sighed and looked at his four sleeping beauties. He could slide out and run. But that would leave the womenfolk at the mercy of these very unsympathetic gentlemen. And him facing a very unhappy and upset d'Arcy. He exhaled lengthily. He liked his line of work, and 'til now, it had paid handsomely. Like everything in life, from time to time came the moment one had to pay for what he got...  
_

* * *

Maureen had seen the second one coming out and running toward the other, and after a moment of discussion, both had begun to climb the slope. As she knew her pupils, it was her ward who stayed behind.

"We must get these two," she said, crawling backwards. She looked at the poacher.

"Can you get them? I'll see what I can do for the last one..."

"I'll do it," said Willoughby. "Be careful; those men are nasty examples of mankind."

"So am I, poacher, so am I."

* * *

The young Willoughby had been waiting in the middle of the path. Mr. Bennet and Fitzwilliam jumped from their horses, the first with a bit more caution than the second, and ran to him. Matt Willoughby immediately explained to them where the kidnappers had taken their hostages. Matthews, the head hunter, gave the necessary details as to the lay of the land at this particular place.

"Plenty of escape routes..." he grumbled. "I'm not sure we will be able to get them all. A few will escape!"

"Dad is already there, and he probably isn't alone since I haven't seen the stalker coming back. They will know the details we are missing."

Fitzwilliam nodded.

"It's not important if some escape. I'm sure my brother will put his police after them. They won't run fast and far enough to dodge his wrath..."

He looked at Jenkins, the smallest of his horse lads.

"Take young Willoughby with you, and follow us. We'll go straight for the main building. It's probably there that they detain my wife and her sisters."

"No, we won't," interrupted Mr. Bennet. "We have a forward scout, and we will use his knowledge before taking unnecessary risks." He shot his best commanding look at his son. "What we do is more or less a military operation. And that's my order of business..."

Fitzwilliam, who had had a few occasions to speak with his father-in-law about his past, hesitated. But seeing his father's unflinching eyes, he nodded.

"Alright, you take over, Papa..."

Mr. Bennet looked at Matthew.

"Is there a place where we can dismount out of the sight of the kidnappers?"

"There is, sir. Not more than ten minutes afoot from the hut."

"Fine, let's go there. With hope, we'll get news from your poacher the moment we approach."  
_

* * *

They got news even earlier since they were hailed by Elizabeth and Georgiana, who were walking a covered path in the middle of the slope. Both were soon in Fitzwilliam's shaking arms.

"God be blessed, you're safe..." he whispered in his wife's and sister's ears. "Where's Jane?"

Elizabeth made a face and shook her head.

"She's still there. She chose to stay..."

Mr. Bennet, who was just standing aside waiting for his turn to hug his daughter, cried out in dismay.

"Why would she do such a thing? If you're out, so could she..."

"We had no idea you were so near," explained Georgiana.

"I couldn't talk her out of her plan," said Elizabeth. "She just wouldn't bulge."

And then, they both began to explain what had happened. After a lengthy and rather confusing story, Fitzwilliam and his father-in-law looked at each other.

"She chose to stay to give us ample time to flee without being stalked by the highwaymen..." Lizzy was saying when Mr. Bennet stopped her with a curt order.

"Enough, dear; we know enough to go in and get Jane, and we are in a hurry. You stay here with Jenkins and young Matt." He looked at Willoughby, who had wisely chosen to let the women explain. "Take Jenkins' horse and bring us as close as possible to that campsite without being forced to dismount. I still have a daughter who could be in danger."

* * *

"You can't do that," whispered Jane.

"Of course I can," countered Maureen in the same discreet manner. "It's very easy. I could do it if they were conscious; with them knocked out, it's even easier."

"They are defenseless..."

"Even more so when they are dead."

"They are tied up..."

"Ties can be opened. A dead man never resurrects without God's son in direct vicinity." She looked around them. "He's clearly not here, so once dead, they'll stay dead. And we get no nasty surprises."

"Maureen, you can't be so bloodthirsty. Nobody's so bloodthirsty."

Maureen chose not to answer. She had begun to like her former lover's wife. She was exactly what bloodthirsty and merciless d'Arcy needed to change and become human again. She knew that, for her, there would be no such redemption. Life and the Brits had made her so, and so she would die.

So there was no reason that she, being unmarried and with –no longer so shy– Jane, should stop being exactly as she liked: bloodthirsty and merciless.

"They'll hang anyway," she tried to explain. "At the most, they'll survive a few days more, and while alive, they'll always be able to break loose and jump us... Dead is much safer!"

"We are no killers..."

"You're not! I am, and I'm rather proud of it..."

"Well," cried Jane. "Then take it as an order. You won't kill these men."

Maureen shrugged.

"I already have my orders, lady! And they come directly from d'Arcy. And they say: protect my wife at all costs! And I've just decided that the price of your safety means the death of these men."

She was just picking up her knife when there was a loud knock at the door.

"Are you alright?"

Maureen swore under her breath.

_We were so taken by those two that we forgot to look out for other dangers._

"Alright?" answered Jane. "Would you be alright while in the custody of highwaymen? We will be alright as soon as the bunch of you is captured and hanging..."

Adams smiled. Indeed, they were alright.

"Sorry if I don't intend to be here for the hanging, my lady. But I have urgent plans elsewhere. They have to do with spending the money you'll earn me!" he said, looking around.

Where were those two idiots? He had not chosen the brightest, but what was difficult to understand about 'Stay in the immediate vicinity?' Perhaps he should have just said that they should stay by the buildings. Next to the house? Between the huts?

He looked at the upper slope and made a face. Could it be that the stalker had arrived? Well, only one way to be sure.

He went back to the house. Cooley wouldn't like it, but as he was a known sodomite, he was the safest bet he could make at this moment. He prayed that it would be enough.

* * *

"Seems like the leader," said Mr. Bennet, lending his telescope to Fitzwilliam. "Two nice pistols, a dagger in his right boot, and a knife hidden in the narrow of his back. Clothes made of a very good fabric. Not your usual highwayman leader. We should try to take that one alive. I'm quite sure he could tell us quite a few stories about who's engaged him to commit this crime."

Fitzwilliam observed the man and saw the pistols. The dagger he would have overlooked, and as for the knife... How could he know such a thing? The man was wearing a jacket and a cape over his shirt!

"I saw him with a rifle earlier," said Willoughby.

"Then it's inside," commented Mr. Bennet, "with his four surviving accomplices."

"I believe the other two were still alive when we decided to run," added Willoughby.

"They are probably tied up and defenseless..."

"I certainly hope so," grumbled Fitzwilliam. "Perhaps we should shout to let your daughter know that we are here and that she should run toward us..."

"Best way to get her shot in the back," said Mr. Bennet. "Don't forget, son, once these men know that we are here, they will know that they are dead. With nothing to lose, they could do some very foolish things. Killing my daughter being one of them..."

"I'll crawl down there and speak with her," said Fitzwilliam. "She must be warned..."

"And what good reason could you give me to let you take these foolish risks?"

"I'm the only one she'll be sure is a friend. She doesn't know any of us, save you and me..."

He looked at his father-in-law with a smile.

"Would it be that you are volunteering?"

"I would, but my ankles and knees just won't do it any longer," countered Mr. Bennet, shaking his head.

He sighed and put his hand on his son's arm.

"Don't do anything foolish, and crawl the whole way! Remember that I'm a very bad manager, and without you, Pemberley would soon become a real mess..."

"I'll keep that in mind while I crawl the whole way down. It should help to hold my head low."  
_

* * *

Cooley had just taken his rifle and followed Adams out of the house when 'Gutter' crawled to his friends 'Carver' and 'One Eye.' He had awaited this very moment since they arrived at the campsite.

He shook his 'friends' awake.

"What?"

"Adams is out, and he took Cooley to guard the surroundings. Seems Coltrane and Biggs have taken an unauthorized leave. Adams wants to have a look. That's the moment we were awaiting."

One Eye chuckled, standing up.

"Time to harvest..."

Within a minute, they were equipped and ready.

"What about Cooley?"

Gutter turned around and smiled.

"What about Cooley? He's a sodomite, remember? The wrath of God should soon fall upon him. It took long enough, didn't it?"

"Quite right, that, quite right..." said Carver. "Who's going to do it?"

"I'll gut him, no problem," said Gutter with a famished smile. "He'll see nothing coming..."

Fitzwilliam was halfway when the last three who were unaccounted for came out of the hut. Two of them went sideways to relieve themselves, and the last one walked toward the guard who was slowly making rounds. Fitzwilliam waited till everybody seemed occupied and then decided to go on. The newcomers were not looking in his direction, and the fact that they were all out was visibly more disturbing for the guard than it was for him. So he crawled on.  
_

* * *

Each of the kidnappers but one had two or more rifles pointed at him. But one of them was covered by the prisoners' hut and a group of trees. Where he was, nobody could shoot him, and if something happened, he was near enough to make a dash for the hut and take Jane and Maureen hostage...

Which was not very probable, since even Maureen alone could have killed the last man with her bare hands. But that part of the story was just the part nobody had told to Mr. Bennet, who could not even imagine that his last daughter and her bodyguard would have no problems with so small a highwayman.

So he decided to wait.  
_

* * *

There was a shout followed by a gurgling voice. Fitzwilliam stopped crawling and tried to see what had happened. He saw one of the bandits coming into sight, his hands on his belly, frenetically holding something red and messy against him. He walked for two more yards, stopped, and let his arms fall along his body. The red messy thing fell on the ground... But a part clung to the belly and refused to fall. And then the man's legs gave way, and he began falling forwards.

It was only in that very moment that Fitzwilliam Darcy understood that something unexpected had happened. And that that sort of unexpected was not what he wanted to see in conjunction with his sister. He decided that he was done with crawling.  
_

* * *

Gutter was still smiling with his bloody knife in his left hand when he saw a man running toward him. For a second, he wondered who this man was. Then he decided that it was a threat. Soon his knife was airborne and flying towards the stranger's chest. He was rather disappointed when said stranger's sword deflected his knife. His disappointment lasted only for a second, the time for Fitzwilliam's blade to cut through his throat.  
_

* * *

As soon as Mr. Bennet saw his son standing up, he knew that his little battle plan just went down the gutter. And with Fitzwilliam running in the middle of the bandits, he could not order a general open fire.

"Shoot only those who threaten Darcy," he cried. "Only those who..."

As usual with stressed and nervous civilians, a few heard only the first word, and their rifles pointed toward the bandits' camp fired a first salvo. One bandit was just aiming at Fitzwilliam when a bullet touching his rifle thrashed his aim. Instead of touching Fitzwilliam's chest, the impact raised the barrel enough to shoot high and so brushed his scalp. He felt it but went on, and soon a second highwayman was holding his slashed throat. There was only one left, the one who was covered by trees and the prisoners' hut. As feared by Mr. Bennet, he chose to run toward the hut.

All those who had not yet fired decided that that man was their target of choice. And twenty-two bullets were shot in his general direction. A dozen of them hit nothing. One bounced against a rock and hit Fitzwilliam in the shoulder. Luckily, at the time of this, his second impact, it was just speedy enough to knock him over and not to penetrate the flesh. So Fitzwilliam was prone when the four other bullets which probably would have killed him whistled past over him. Due to poor aim and a great deal of stress, the last three thrashed into the hut, two of them making a better acquaintance with two heavy and solid logs which welcomed them and never let them go again.

The third was luckier. It slipped between two logs and splintered into three unequal little lead bullets. One tore open Maureen's cheek, the other cracked her third right rib, and the last impacted on Jane's skull with enough energy left to crack it. She would have dropped like a stone had not Maureen caught her to put her slowly on the hut's floor.  
_

* * *

Adams was just returning from his little –and unlucky– tour when he heard the two first salvos. And then there was a heavy silence. He didn't want to know what had really happened. Time to disappear. His horse was waiting, and he had an appointment in London. Hopefully he would have good news to tell.


	29. Pemberley The Power of Love

Aftermath...  
_

* * *

**Chapter twenty-nine: The Power of Love**

* * *

**Tuesday the thirty-first, August. Dordogne. Pemberley. Zhongdian.  
**_

* * *

"Hello, dear..."

His smile was even more handsome than usual. She couldn't resist and flew into his arms. He caught her and soon they kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

"You've come," said d'Arcy. "I was lonely and a little stressed. What if I never..."

"Stop, I'm here and I'm so happy to hold you in my arms. I would never have thought that happiness could be so..." she hesitated, "so complete..."

He nodded.

"You're right, dear. Never before have I felt so complete."

She bent backwards and looked at their surroundings.

"Where are we?"

"Beynac Castle," answered d'Arcy. "The most enchanted castle in all of France and the only place where I have ever been happy before encountering you..."

She looked around her and saw that they were at the top of a square tower and far, far away, more than a hundred yards below, a mighty river was flowing. He followed her look and smiled.

"The Dordogne, dear... The most beautiful river in France. Here you'll find friendly people and a blessed land where everything grows to twice the size of everywhere else..."

She smiled at his enthusiasm. She could feel his happiness and could do nothing but share it with him.

"Let me show you every place in the castle and the village. Let me show the people and the land."

And he did what he promised. They visited every room of the castle, even its foulest dungeons where they met the only people who acknowledged them. And even they visibly could not approach. She wondered a little about them, but soon her husband's enthusiasm washed every worry away.

They visited the castle's garden and the huge kitchen, and he boasted that he was, through his grandmother, who was the last owner of the castle, the heir to Richard Lionheart, who was renowned to have frolicked with the daughter of the house. She laughed at him.

"So that's why you invaded England, to get back the throne of your great-great-great-grandfather?"

He denied nothing and just smiled at her with the most loving smile she had ever seen.

"Let's visit my two other favorite castles, _mon amour_. They are just on the other side of the Dordogne."

She agreed, and soon they were visiting Milandes Castle and Castelnaud Castle, both built in the fifteenth century and marvelously situated in the middle of orchards and vineyards. And Geoffrey was so proud of them. He loved them in the same way Fitzwilliam loved Pemberley and the Peaks. He was just like the boy who came to these places with his grandfather –the admiral who was sunk by the Navy– and here he could live without the fear and stress his father awoke in him. Here he had known only love and admiration and respect. And it showed.

* * *

He was, like that long-gone happy child, full of liveliness and spirit. He quoted poems and showed her pictures and paintings and monuments. He was like a whirlwind, and at his side, time was no longer of importance. It was as if they were just living each moment as if there would never be another one behind. Soon she had the impression that she knew this land as well as Longbourn and Hertfordshire.

Here was where his heart was buried, and he was so unwaveringly happy that she had difficulty recognizing the mature man she had learned to love while dancing and flying with this youthful Adonis.

"I'll show you every place where I've been happy," he said after what seemed like seconds but must have been days considering how much he had shown her.

He looked her in the eyes, and soon she felt herself fall into his marvelous green-blue eyes.  
_

* * *

"That's the monastery."

"What do you mean, the monastery?"

He looked at her with a little surprise sparkling in his eyes.

"There's only one monastery in my life, _mon amour_. It's here that I learned everything I needed to know, to find the strength in me to overcome my self-loathing."

"But it's in China, dear! How can we?"

He smiled at her with more love that she had ever witnessed.

"Because distance and time are no longer important for us, _mon amour_. We are dead!"  
_

* * *

"Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, she just moved her head... She moaned and uttered a few words. I'm sure she said, 'no, no...' But I didn't understand the rest of her words."

Lizzy was immediately at her sister's side. For twenty long hours, she had neither moved nor spoken. She had just lain there without ever acknowledging her ministrations or those of the nurse. And now she had moved and spoken. Just when she was not there...  
_

* * *

Mr. Bennet and his son-in-law were awake in the master's study. They had spent quite a long time here. The return from the Peaks had been difficult with Fitzwilliam more than angry and Jane totally unaware of her surroundings. They had brought her back, put her to bed, and called the doctor. And the doctor's diagnosis was less than satisfying.

"She just lost consciousness," he had said. "Her skull is broken but not staved-in, which is a good sign. It could be that there is only superficial damage and nothing more than a heavy contusion. As for now, I'm unable to say more. Try to give her beverages and soup or she will slowly dwindle into oblivion."

And with these words, he went away promising to come again in the evening and at noon the next day.

They had discovered how it had happened, and Fitzwilliam's pride was more than a little squelched by what had happened to his sister. He was just pouring himself and his father a third glass of port when Lizzy came in.

"She moved and spoke," she said, quite excited. "The nurse says she said 'no' twice and some other words she didn't understand. It could be a good sign. It must be a good sign..."

Soon she was in her husband's arms.

"We'll soon see, dear," he whispered in her ear. "The doctor was quite adamant that even the slightest sign of consciousness was a portent of further healing. Has she eaten?"

Lizzy nodded.

"She swallows. This morning, she just refused, but I spoke to her of the child she's carrying. It was enough to make her swallow. She knows what matters. She won't dwindle into oblivion. Not my Jane. That's not a Bennet way, and neither is it a d'Arcy way... We will have her back. It's just a question of time."  
_

* * *

"No, no, I'm not..."

"Indeed you are, _mon amour_. We both are. And it's of no importance! We are together for all eternity..."

_No,_ thought Jane. _No, I'm not dead. I don't know what happened, but I'm not dead. I'm not dead!_

She looked him in the eyes and took him in her arms. He was real; she could touch him and smell his fragrance. She could feel his tongue when he kissed her...

_I cannot be dead, that's not death!_

But he was so young, younger than she was... Or was he? She looked at herself in his eyes and saw that she was, like him, little more than a young girl.

_Yes, we are younger, but we are not dead. Not while I'm carrying our child. I won't let him die. I won't! I want to come back. It's marvelous here, but it's not right to be here. It's not right to be between worlds..._

She sighed, overwhelmed with the odors of the Chinese town they were "flying" over. A minute before, she had been in Southern France, walking along paths winding their way between vineyards and orchards, and now she was over a teeming city full of people whose tongue she didn't understand. And who couldn't see her... That was why only the ghosts in the castle's dungeons had reacted to their presence. Normal people couldn't see ghosts... Ghosts could see ghosts...

_I'm not a ghost; I'm not dead!_

"Let me show you where I was, for the first time, satisfied with myself," said the youth who was her love and at whose side she wished to stay forever.  
_

* * *

He had shown her everything, the streets where he had roamed, the buildings where he had lived alone and with his concubines. He had sought them out, and she was proud that he was so happy to see them content and in good health.

And then he had taken her to the monastery. He had guided her through the corridors of the greatest library she had ever seen, miles and miles of tunnels excavated out of the most powerful granite mass she had ever seen.

And then, to end their tour, he had brought her to the reception chamber where Master Whu had so often summoned him. And when they entered, his eyes opened and followed them.

"Who's she, little Monkey?"

His lips never moved, but still she heard what he was saying. More, she understood him. Geoffrey said a few words she didn't understand.

"No need to speak, little Monkey; haven't you discovered that in your state, thoughts can be heard?"

She looked at the old man and spoke with her mind.

"I'm Jane, his wife, and I'm not dead!"

A smile came on Master Whu's face.

"Indeed, you are and you are not... Not yet, little Flower, not yet. But it could happen very soon if you don't show a real will to live."

"I want to live. I'm with child. I won't let him die..."

"That's of no importance, little Flower." He pointed behind her. "There are many pregnant women who die each day the gods give us. Coming and going, that's the way of things. Being with child will change nothing if you don't have the will to live. Please turn and think of your child..."

She turned and did what he told her. And soon she saw two light shapes which hovered just a few yards from her.

"Normally, they wait in proximity of your body. But you can summon them. You can even speak to them if you want."

Without letting them out of her sight, she went on asking.

"Who are they?"

"They are the souls who await to wear the bodies you are conceiving, little Flower."

"Bodies?"

"You will bear twins, little Flower. The land that nurtured you was in urgent need of a male and a female firstborn. It chose to make you conceive both at the same time. And those are the souls who won the toss to become your children."

"Won the toss?"

"It's not always easy, little Flower, to find a family who will give you everything you need to fulfill your destiny. Often, there are more than one who want to wear the body you're creating."

He looked at the light shadows.

"In your case, they were quite a few candidates. They have all waited a long time to be able to come back to the country they are linked with. They were all quite impatient and in a hurry to come back in our little schoolroom. Those two were those who had the most affinity with you and your husband. You have known each other for quite a long time. They are quite satisfied that you won't let yourself die."

"Of course I won't, I'm not dead!"

"That's the spirit, little Flower. That's the spirit."

He looked at d'Arcy.

"Now there's only the task of convincing him not to let himself die. He's so happy between worlds. He has no real will to go back."

Geoffrey took her in his arms.

"We can have everything we want here. We can be together forever. Don't go back..."

"I won't let my children die," she whispered. "And if, once dead, we can find ourselves in the same place with youthful bodies and passions in our hearts, would it not be better to wait? We have long years before us. We could come back later, much later..."

"It's said that it is only possible when real love is shared," said Master Whu. "And it has happened that over the years, love has dwindled and disappeared..."

She turned her head and could not help laughing when she saw his stubborn mien.

"Don't fret about it, dear. Our love will not dwindle over the years. And even if I am the only person you love, it's not so for me. I have parents I have learned to cherish even if they are not perfect. I have sisters who can be the silliest creatures in the world, but I love them more for it, not less. And then there are your children I already love dearly. So you see, I have plenty of reasons to come back and love those others. And I'm sure you too will soon have many people to love around you..."

She turned and thanked the souls who had answered her call.

"Two of them I already know, and one of them is the son you are so afraid of having. Come back with me, and let's share a normal life before sharing an eternity of youthful mischief..."

He hugged her fiercely and whispered in her hair.

"If we die now, we'll really have all eternity to share our love..."

"I don't doubt it, dear. But I do believe that you need more practice in the variety of love and tenderness. I'm sure that two howling babes will soon show you the real price of love..."

He sighed.

"I don't want to lose you..."

"You won't! Refuse to die and come back with me. We'll have many years to love each other, and we have so much more to learn."

He shook his head.

"You'll abandon me?"

"Never, but now I'll just go on living. And if I understand correctly, you could decide to be at my side till the end of my life..."

"I could, but what if you fall in love with some other man?"

"There's only one way to be sure that that will never happen."

He smiled at her.

"That the man you love is at your side?"

"That's my true opinion, dear. I know that with you at my side, there will be no other man. Ever!"

"You drive a hard bargain, dear..."

She sighed, relieved that he would come with her.

"Wouldn't you, dear, if the price of your bargain is your happiness?"  
_

* * *

A hand grabbed hers, and she was immediately awake.

"I'll live Lizzy, stop worrying... I'll live." She took a long breath. "And before I forget everything, please note that I'll be the mother of twins and that Geoffrey just survived an assassination attempt. The news is coming that he's not regaining consciousness. He will, so please be firm, and don't let me panic when the news arrives..."

And with these last words, Jane slipped into a dream full of twins, a smiling and loving husband, and foreign Chinese cities...


	30. London Survivor

What happened in London...

* * *

**Chapter thirty: London Survivor**

* * *

**London. Tuesday the thirty-first, August. **

* * *

"Monsieur le Consul..."

D'Arcy had been waiting for his surprise guest, and the surprise had not been on his side.

"Monsieur d'Arcy..." said Lebrun. "I'm... glad you had the opportunity to come. We feared you'd be further delayed."

D'Arcy shot him his most amiable smile.

"I'm a lowly proconsul," he said, reminding his vis-à-vis of the title he so lightly forgot while greeting d'Arcy. "There's nothing that could have stopped me from being here at your arrival..."

"I'm surprised you got the message in time. It was rather a short last-minute enterprise."

"It's my job to know everything that could be of importance for our new departments. And the first consular visit is a very important event for said new departments."

He bowed and pointed his guest toward the carriage that was waiting.

"What would you like to do while in Great Britain?"

"Nothing special," answered Lebrun. "I'm not here to visit, but rather more to speak with you about your Scottish and Welsh initiatives."

D'Arcy let himself show a hint of surprise.

"And how would you have done that in my absence? I'm the only one who knows everything about the Treaties, the conditions, and the results we got. It's rather difficult to speak with me if I'm not even officially informed of the Consul's coming."

There was a weighty silence that d'Arcy had no intention to break. As Lebrun had just walked on his tongue, he would let him do what salvage was possible. He came rather easily out of the rebuke.

"I had every intention to come to your Pemberley estate as soon as possible. I had the secret hope of meeting our new allies and perhaps even to signing the treaties in the name of France."

D'Arcy let himself look relieved.

"Glad to hear this happy news," he said with his most diplomatic smile. "I'm sure they would have liked to meet with the third most powerful man in France."

He was quite satisfied to see Lebrun grate his teeth. He really didn't like to be reminded that he was the last man in the French Triumvir. He liked to be called Consul. It gave him a false sense of his own importance.

"But," d'Arcy went on, "I'm equally sorry and proud to inform you that they did quit Pemberley yesterday morning after signing everything, and I'm very satisfied to be able announce that the Scots and Welsh have, thanks to my efforts, turned their back on the idea of a future United Kingdom; that part of European history is behind us. Now it's France and its new allies who dominate Great Britain. And thanks to these Treaties, this is a situation which will last quite a long time..."

_A few years at least. After that? Who knows what our dear Bonaparte will have unleashed_?

"That is more than satisfactory," said Lebrun through gritted teeth. "We will be able to prove to the whole world that France respects old nations and new ideas."

D'Arcy showed his appreciation for Lebrun's _bon-mot _which was so similar to one of his own_. _He was quite sure that the spies who had him under surveillance for his bosses had no interest in making said bosses an exhaustive report of everything he said. They were probably coming from somewhere in Paris. If he had to guess, he would have bet on Cambacérès, who had his ways with words. Or perhaps Lucien Bonaparte, who was his brother's equal in everything but military skills. But he was a much better diplomat and an astute politician in his own right. Pity he and his brother had had some misunderstandings over Italy's money. He would have been a very interesting ally. But as often in family dealings, mistakes did happen, and trying to get at his brother's money had been a _big_ mistake! Someday, perhaps, he would have an opportunity to get Lucien's support.

"We have already proven it," said d'Arcy, "and nobody in Europe, especially in Poland, Italy, and Germany, will forget what just happened here..."

Lebrun acknowledged d'Arcy last words with a mirthless grin.

"It was, indeed, a politically and diplomatically shrewd movement," he conceded. "Even if it makes us lose a great part of Great Britain's production..."

_Meaning wealth_, thought d'Arcy while acknowledging his superior's analysis.

"The treaties have taken that point into account, monsieur le Consul. We will have complete access to their means of production, and Wales and Scotland have signed the economic appendixes that enable France to buy coal and iron at specific and favorable price levels. We will always pay the lowest price for which the mines sold them a month prior. So we're sure that they won't increase the prices for their French allies."

Lebrun nodded his reluctant approval.

"Good thinking, that. I suppose they didn't like signing it..."

"On the contrary, they were more than relieved that we showed interest in buying their products. As you know, England's underground is rich in coal and iron, and we could have stopped every import from outside nations."

"And why did we choose to go on buying abroad?"

D'Arcy could feel the other's growing interest. Indeed, had he made a mistake dear little Lebrun could use to push him out of favor?

"For three main reasons. First, our mines are not ready yet. And even with the investment some shrewd investors are planning to launch, they will not be ready for another year and a half. Second, even when they will be ready, _I_ plan a production that will be much higher than England's possibilities. And third, I intend to become the best client of both our allies. There's no better link between two nations than an economic one. They will become wealthy at the same time we'll become rich... And it's always very difficult to renounce what you already have with your current partner for the dream of more with somebody else. I don't say it is treason-proof, I say it's foolproof."

"You could buy in France."

"And use ships to cross the channel? It would double the prices, and even if it would be my ships that would transport them –_making me and my company even richer_– it would increase the prices of our manufactured goods in such a manner that they would be more expensive on the English market than French products." His smile became very unpleasant. "And even if the French producers would profit the most from such a situation, I'm quite sure that if looked at from an economic point-of-view, it would be counterproductive."

"It would enrich France," insisted Lebrun. "And a true patriot..."

"England _is_ France now," interrupted d'Arcy. "You seem to have forgotten. And who could deem himself a better patriot than the man who, within one month, has invaded, pacified, and integrated the British homeland into the French republic?"

It could have been a rhetorical question, but d'Arcy chose to force the matter. He would not let someone like Lebrun go on doubting his patriotic fervor. He would resent it, but he was already d'Arcy's competitor in Napoleon's favor and, had he had the courage and the means, would have been his most decided enemy.

_So, nothing to lose on that side of the table_...

"Who?" insisted d'Arcy, letting his smile fade and his eyes become dangerously cold.

Lebrun, who knew everything about France's bureaucracy and his real position as Consul in the French power structure, was no fool! He felt that he had crossed an invisible frontier where even d'Arcy's considerable diplomatic skill would not be sufficient to save him.

"Nobody," he said with a small voice.

"I'm glad to hear it, monsieur le Consul. Because, from time to time, me and my veterans," and he insisted heavily on _my_, "we do feel that our government does not acknowledge our military prowess and the sacrifices we made with enough enthusiasm. My men are still waiting for an official congratulation for the superb victory they have achieved. I hope you'll have the time to tour my army camps to deliver the first Consul's address..." He saw Lebrun becoming white as linen. "They will conclude that your surprise presence is the long awaited _satisfecit_ and praise of their government."

D'Arcy's smile came back. Not really friendly and more than threatening.

"They would not understand your presence without those addresses... And I don't speak of the much desired bonus a victorious army that has, 'til the end, stayed steadfast and disciplined could have taken for granted from their rulers..."

The threat was more than explicit, and what was left of color was drained out of Lebrun's face.  
D'Arcy laughed in a very relaxed way.

"But don't worry about _that_ little question. I've paid them myself a bonus to acknowledge their fine and disciplined conduct during this campaign after the King's family's escape. They were quite satisfied, and I must say that that money went directly in England's most basic economy, which will, in time, hopefully bring more taxes into France's coffers."

Lebrun, who knew perfectly well where d'Arcy had found the money he so lavishly had given to France's soldiers, nodded noncommittally. All their agents had reported that d'Arcy was, now more even than Bonaparte, the living hero of the whole French army, from the lowliest soldier to the most renowned general. And to add insult to injury, d'Arcy was and had been for weeks the favorite subject of all the French newspapers. Even those in Napoleon's pocket had written endlessly about him, his military expertise, and lately, his marital bliss with the only –_in France's opinion_– beautiful English lady.

The first Consul had been and probably still was very chagrined about d'Arcy's being the soldiers' and public opinion's favorite, but he knew as well as the other Consuls that, at this very moment, nothing could be done to push d'Arcy out of his glorious hero seat. What they needed was a resounding defeat, but even the Consuls' personal ambition was not great enough to go in such a manner against France's interests.

So, for now, d'Arcy was untouchable... With the emphasis clearly on _for now_. And if one thing was certain, it was that d'Arcy knew it. Otherwise he would never have dared to speak to the third Consul in such a manner. But then it was rumored that he had threatened even Napoleon, and not only in Egypt before their association, but even later when they were both ensconced in their campaign to transform France into the first World Power since the Roman Empire.

"I'm here for quite some time," said Lebrun, who had every intention of staying as long as possible.

He had postponed his rendezvous with Napoleon just before leaving Paris. He had lost quite a lot of money these last weeks around London and was very decided to meet and speak with d'Arcy's straw men at the Company's head. He had already tried –_and failed_– to disrupt said Company, and after his backers had received reports about the sheer size of that Company's plans, they had changed their minds. They had capital, and all economic and financial reports were showing that d'Arcy's brainchild would be number one in production and trade in less than a year. And the motto, 'If you can't destroy it, use it!' was very much theirs. So here he was with a proposition he had to present only to d'Arcy's finance and trade partners just to be sure who, in that alliance, had the last say. If they agreed to negotiate without referring to d'Arcy, his backers would be very pleased because it would mean that it really was a financial and economic enterprise, not a way for d'Arcy to launder his stolen gold. And bankers and financiers all over the world had a common language that really bound them together. And if it was the case, they were _very_ sure that they wanted to be part of it.

There was a silence that lasted long, heavy minutes while the carriage wound its way through London's better streets, when they were pulled out of their seats by an abrupt movement of the carriage. It turned and threatened to topple over, but finally landed on its wheels. There were shouts and loud noises, and finally, they heard a shot.

D'Arcy was immediately over Lebrun, forcing him to lay low on the floor of the carriage.

"I don't know what's happening; better not to be seen. They could shoot at us..."

And then there was the loud crash of an exploding glass window, and something bumped against the back seat of the carriage and finally rolled just in front of the two prone men. It was rather little and black and its –_very short_– fuse was burning with a happy little '_shhh_' that had a fascination of its own for Lebrun. He knew he was going to look at the burning fuse 'til the explosion. He just knew it. He knew he was going to die, but it was just impossible for him to stop looking at that little light that was announcing that he was a dead man. He was even smiling...

That was when d'Arcy acted. In one movement, he stood up, kicked the carriage door open, and grasped Lebrun's jacket collar. Not a second later, Lebrun felt himself being pulled, pushed, and thrown outside. Lebrun was so surprised that he was unable to help or to hinder. For a moment he was sure was timeless, he was just a piece of luggage d'Arcy was throwing out of the carriage. He felt himself fly, touch down, and roll on the street. And then he was there, his back against the cobblestones, not very sure of what had just happened and not yet sure that he would live.

Then he saw d'Arcy appear at the carriage door. There was a smile on the man's face! He was sure of it. Their eyes met, and he couldn't believe what he saw. There was joy in d'Arcy's eyes. The same joy Lebrun could see in his son's eyes when he was pulling a stupid and juvenile stunt.

That man was truly insane.

He saw d'Arcy readying himself to jump when behind him in the carriage, a new sun appeared. A second later, d'Arcy was bouncing from the twelve yards distant wall where the explosion had projected him.  
_

* * *

"How is he?"

The Chinese and French doctors both looked up, and in their eyes he could see that they were upset by his presence and not very happy with their patient.

But Lebrun had been adamant. He wanted to see what had happened to his savior, and his Consul status had been a great help.

"He's alive," said the French doctor. "I don't know how he does it, but he's still alive. Luckily for him, the blast of the explosion sent him back first against the wall. Unluckily for him, he was upside down when he stopped against the wall, and his head touched the cobblestones first. It was not smashed-in, but the hit was enough to knock him out. All other injuries, and there are quite a lot of them, should heal within a month." They looked at each other. "The head wound? We just don't know..."

Lebrun pushed himself into the room and looked at d'Arcy's face. Now he was sure that the man was raving mad! How could one smile while crushed into little bone fragments?

"What happened?"

Three generals were facing him. And they seemed as unhappy as himself.

"Blunt and foolish assassination attempt," said Duroc, who was Napoleon's man in Great Britain and, as such, responsible for Lebrun's safety while in England.

"The bomber has escaped. He had accomplices in the crowd. We got a few of them, but they knew nothing about the assassination attempt. They believed they were there to further their cause with d'Arcy."

"Cause?" asked Lebrun.

"Those we got are all Irish," answered Duroc. "They were there to ask for Ireland's liberation."

"Irish?" said Lebrun with surprise in his eyes. "Why would the Irish want to kill us? Aren't we allies?"

"Not you," said Duroc. "Nobody, not even I, knew you were here. They couldn't have planned on killing both of you. It just happened that you were with him when they tried to kill him."

"Why would they do such a thing? He is their staunchest defender."

Duroc made a face.

"Impatient flock, these Irish! I do believe they didn't appreciate our postponing of the Irish campaign. Our next goal was to buy Louisiana. And I know that even with his Irish bodyguards, that was not welcome news..."

Lebrun just shook his head.

"Killing him won't hasten Ireland's liberation, more to the contrary," snorted Lebrun. "I'm not sure his abroad plans would survive his demise. The First Consul clearly has other plans in mind for these armies..."

He felt a wave of dismay from his generals. Clearly d'Arcy's plans had had their approval.

"But since he should be up within the next few weeks, we'll go on with what he planned."

He looked toward Duroc.

"What about the killer?"

"Out of town or underground with other Irishmen... I'm not sure it was the action of a lone fanatic. We should put a reward on his head and let everybody know that it was an Irish assassination attempt..."

Lebrun nodded.

"Yes, you're right. We need to calm the townspeople's anxiety. Let them know that we won't organize a witch hunt on that unhappy occurrence. D'Arcy's still alive; let's go on with his work."

He looked at Duroc.

"Has his wife been warned?"

"A courier was sent immediately," said Duroc with an apology in his eyes. "His standing orders..."

Lebrun smiled at the towering general.

"Glad you still know how to obey orders, General. Please ask Mr. Gardiner and his partner if they could find some time this evening to speak with me. They would be welcome for dinner if they can..."

Lebrun looked after the retreating –_he loved this term in conjunction with soldiers_– generals and leaned back in d'Arcy's comfortable armchair. That man was perhaps crazy, but he had style...

And he had saved his life. He could have jumped out of the carriage, and he would have had a very good chance of being the next Third Consul.

No, he had chosen to throw him out of the carriage first.

A smile came on Lebrun's face. He was sure that throwing _him_ out of that carriage must have been a _very_ pleasant act for d'Arcy, but he could cope with his little undignified landing since it did save him his life.

He sighed and opened the desk's drawers. Neatly stapled files smiled at him.

"A_ngleterre, me voilà_!"[1]

* * *

[1]England, here I am!


	31. Pemberley Reflexions

After the hunt and the rescue, time to think about everything...

* * *

**Chapter thirty-one: Pemberley Reflexions**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley. Wednesday the first, September. **

* * *

"It's raining," sighed Elizabeth, looking out the window.

"It's high time," said Jane with a smile, looking like a far eastern Indian potentate thanks to her hair dressing. "I can literally feel the trees not being thirsty for the first time in weeks..."

Elizabeth came back to her sister's side and delicately kissed her cheek.

"You and your feelings... Seems that hit to the head has provoked quite a few delusions in my favorite sister's little brain..."

"What's left of it," intervened Kitty, who was lying on her sister's bed reading to her from their last favorite sentimental novel. "After such a shock, most of it must have been smashed into some grayish goo..."

"What would you know about the brain?" said Lydia, who was playing chess –_a royal pastime_– with Mary –_who had won each and every set, but Lydia was nothing if not stubborn_. "One must have one to speak about..."

"No bickering while..." interrupted Elizabeth.

She was soon stopped by Jane's hand over hers.

"Let them; it's life, Lizzy, and it's so much as it was in Longbourn. Sometimes, especially when I'm not with Geoffrey..."

"In his bed, you mean," snickered Kitty.

"I long for my life in our home," continued Jane without even listening to her sister's prattling. "It seems so far away. I even long for Mama's nerves..."

She sighed and squeezed Lizzy's hand.

"I'd like to have a home myself, Lizzy..." She looked out the window toward the next hill dominating the countryside. "I'd love it to be situated on Megan Hill. It would satisfy my husband's ego, and it would be high enough to allow me to see you coming out of Pemberley each morning. And I would run towards you and walk with you, and laugh with you..."

A tear escaped her eye, and Lizzy knelt at her side.

"I'm sure Fitzwilliam could be convinced, dear. He will be disappointed, but for your sake, he would accept..."

"I'm not ready to leave you," cried Jane. "I'm just not ready... I would love to see Louisiana, but I would never want to live there, nor see my children raised there..."

"Your famous twins," whispered Lizzy with a smile.

"Not mine," countered Jane with a smile of her own. "I remember nothing. _You_ spoke of them..."

"Because you ordered me to remember them," explained Lizzy for the hundredth time. "You only spoke two or three sentences and you were away, sleeping and dreaming and smiling..."

Jane made a face.

"I can't imagine having been able to sleep with that ominous headache. It's almost too painful to think. I don't see how I could sleep with it..."

Lizzy looked at the nightstand where a blue bottle was standing.

"The doctor gave us laudanum to get you to sleep. As soon as you feel too tired, let me know."

Jane –_lightly_– shook her head.

"No, not yet, and perhaps never. It hurts, but then it wouldn't hurt if I were dead. That is life, and life grants the possibility to go on loving all the creatures who deserve to be loved..." She smiled at Lizzy and stroked her fingers. "You, Kitty, Lydia and Mary... Papa and Mama..."

"And Geoffrey," snickered Kitty who was clearly in a teasing mood.

Jane turned her head toward her and nodded –_lightly_– while she smiled.

"And Geoffrey, yes... I hope he's well. It must be the headache, but I'm worried each time I think of him. As if something had happened..."

Elizabeth looked at her sister and sighed. Now was as good a moment as any other.

"There's something I must confess, dear. I spoke of two or three sentences... You know, the sentences you forgot having ever said..."

Jane frowned.

"Yes?"

"One of them spoke of Geoffrey. You said that he survived an assassination attempt and that I should do my best not to let you panic. You also said that he would be well..."

Jane looked at her sister with more than disbelief.

"How could I have known such things?"

Elizabeth shook her head and sat on her sister's bed.

"I have no idea, dear, but what I'm certain of is that you believed in what you were saying. You looked me in the eyes, and there was not a trace of doubt in them."

"You came near to dying," said Mary, while placing her Queen for the last assault. "And since you're a creature of God, you came into _His_ light. And while there, you became a part of Him. As God is almighty and all-knowing, you got a hint of what would come and, as is natural, you recognized what was linked to you. For a small amount of time, you were here _and_ at God's side. If we want to be precise, it wasn't you who spoke, but it was the Godly part that is in each and every creature. That part wanted you to be reassured, once back with us. Hence the message you told Lizzy."

She looked at Lydia's next move and launched the next attack with her remaining Knight.

"I'm threatening your King, Lydia..." She looked up and smiled at her eldest sister. "So, Jane, since it wasn't you who was speaking, it's normal you can't remember... But you should be aware that, in my opinion, what was said was the truth..."

Jane and Lydia exchanged a long look. Mary was, with each passing day, becoming more self-confident. A month ago, she would never have uttered those words without giving a dozen different references to authors, books, and Bible verses. Now she just informed them of what she believed. No more precautions, no more hiding behind Fordyce or other learned clergymen.

Lydia did move her King and Mary's Fool came in for the kill.

* * *

"Checkmate, Lydia..." She leaned back in her armchair. "And we will probably have a first proof of what Lizzy heard this very day. Even considering the bad weather, if something happened to Geoffrey yesterday or before, a courier will arrive with a message. If said message says that Geoffrey has been victim of an assassination attempt, you'll _know_ that what your Godly part announced was the truth. And there's no half- or quarter-truth. Only the truth! Geoffrey will survive, he will be well, and you're going to be mother of twins, which is the only thing that should worry you, because it often means an early birth and sickly children..."

She frowned and showed all signs of thinking hard.

"But then, with such an early warning, we should be able to prevent such an event."

She stood up and walked to Lizzy's side.

"We will have to interview mothers of twins, Lizzy. And their midwives. We will need all the information we can gather on those births. We will then be able to decide what should and should not be done."

She smiled at Jane.

"I'm going to work immediately! I'm sure Mrs. Reynolds knows everything about twins in this county, and once we have collected the facts here in Derbyshire, I'll go to Hertfortshire where Aunt Philips and Mrs. Lucas will provide me with the same information..."

She took Jane's hand and shot her a very confident and reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, Jane, we'll know everything about twin births before you are in the sixth month."

And she was gone.

Jane looked at her sisters.

"What has happened to our shy and boring Mary?"

"D'Arcy has happened," explained Lydia, studying her ten last moves to discover which mistakes she had made. "I don't know if you noticed, but that man has changed our lives in every single way possible..."

She shot her eldest sister a dubious look.

"And I was the first one to have known him... And at that time, I could only think of Wickham. How could I ever have been such a silly goose?"

She was quite surprised to hear her three sisters laugh at her last remark. Jane more quietly, but still with spirit. She couldn't help joining them.  
_

* * *

"Will she be alright?"

Mrs. Reynolds could only nod reassuringly toward Fitzwilliam.

"She will. She has a tremendous headache and will probably need laudanum to sleep, but she is strong and healthy and should recover in no time. The support of her sisters will be an important help for her recovery."

Fitzwilliam tried a small and tired smile.

"Thanks, Mrs. Reynolds, for this good news. Now we will have to speak of somewhat less pleasant things."

Mrs. Reynolds nodded and looked at the floor.

"I suppose it's about the secret passage?"

"Indeed it is, Mrs. Reynolds. I know it is not your fault, but I need to know who could be behind that operation, and we could probably shorten the list of suspects if we had an exact idea of who knew about it."

* * *

"I fear there will be no suspense there, Mr. Darcy. I know of only one still alive who could have used his knowledge by giving it to highwaymen..."

"I feared his name would, once more, come out..." Fitzwilliam looked Mrs. Reynolds in the eyes. "It's Wickham, isn't it?"

"His father knew, Mr. Darcy, and he doted on young Wickham. I'm quite sure he spoke to him about it."

"And he used this knowledge immediately," said Mr. Bennet, who was standing by the fire. "I looked up the wall his father and the two tenants built. It was toppled even before the mortar was dry. The men who came into this house these last days had to do nothing to break in. The work had been done a long time ago."

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

* * *

"And I spent entire nights trying to figure out how Wickham could be in the country's inns and be home the next morning with nobody having seen him coming home. I'm sure he used it again and again... It could even be that some of the thefts we believed had been perpetrated by fired maids or footmen were, in reality, the result of some of my dear brother's visits."

He looked at Mrs. Reynolds and could see that she shared part of his guilt. Perhaps somewhere around Pemberley were people who were accused of things a Darcy had done.

"I'll look into it, Master. And if there's something to do, I'll let you know..."

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. We can't just forget it... We just can't!"

Mr. Bennet could only smile at the differences between the two half-brothers. One was a real compassionate gentleman while the other was nothing but filthy scum!

Mr. Bennet was so upset by the news that some of those rascals had come to kill Jane that he was determined to get his hands on George, the _Wicked Darcy._ And the sooner the better!

"What's a pity is that we have no surviving witness," said Fitzwilliam. "As of now, we have no proof!"

* * *

"As of now, I don't need no proof," Mr. Bennet grumbled in the soldier's English he slipped into when upset enough. "I'm very sure that this dwarf of a man gave the information to the filth who wanted to kill my daughter. And even if she is married and no longer legally my responsibility, nothing could prevent me from putting a bullet into that swine's head..."

Fitzwilliam couldn't help agreeing with his father-in-law. But, because there was a _but_, now that his "brother" was officially a Darcy, he could not and would not launch an attack against him without sufficient proof. He would not dishonor their name without being certain that he would see his brother hang for his crimes. And even the idea of seeing a Darcy hang for crimes made him ill at ease.

"We can't, Papa. He is a Darcy now. I cannot drag my own name through the mud without sufficient proof to back my accusations. I know him; he will use every trick in the bag to make us look like the villains of the play."

"If he's found with a bullet in his head, nobody's name will be dragged through the dirt," shouted Mr. Bennet, who was now very upset.

"It's not the Darcy way," sighed Fitzwilliam.

Mr. Bennet snorted.

"Before including _George_ Darcy in your family, you were perhaps right; since his becoming a part of the family, I do believe we just acquired a new, very dishonorable family tradition."

The truth of his father's words silenced Fitzwilliam. Indeed, with George becoming a Darcy, all his deeds and misdeeds had become part of the Darcy family legacy. So they could, perhaps, cure the family name with just the methods he had introduced...

_But no, no! You can't, Fitzwilliam. You can't! You're not him, and you never will be_.

He tried to bring the conversation to less bloody matters.

"What I don't understand is why? Why would he want to kill Jane?"

Mr. Bennet snorted and slashed viciously against a wood panel.

"Why, son? Because he's a slimy plotter who wants everything you possess, Fitzwilliam."

Fitzwilliam looked at his father.

"But Jane possesses nothing..."

Mr. Bennet looked at his son, and there was surprise in his eyes. How could his smart and thorough son not have made the connections?

"He's after Pemberley, son. And since Pemberley's d'Arcy's now, he must strike at her in order to remove the chance of d'Arcy having an heir... Without said heir, you are d'Arcy's only legitimate legatee."

Understanding widened Fitzwilliam's eyes.

"And what better way to be sure of that than killing Jane?" Mr. Bennet went on. "Next thing he'll have to do?"

It was a question, and Fitzwilliam immediately knew the answer.

"Kill d'Arcy..." he whispered.

Mr. Bennet's smile came back, and it was not very pleasant.

"And since you are d'Arcy's only next of kin, you'll inherit his titles, his estates, and his riches..."

Fitzwilliam nodded, since everything was just falling into place.

"And then he'll organize an accident for Lizzy, soon followed by another one for Georgiana, and when I'm his only surviving relative, he'll strike at me..."

"And gain more than he could ever dream of..." grumbled Mr. Bennet.

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"God, no! I can't believe it. No man could be so petty and want more when he already has so much!" He looked at his father. "D'Arcy already gave him two estates most men on Earth would have killed to get. They are marvelously situated in one of the best and richest French counties and would have pleased even an English Duke! Why can't he just take what's granted and build himself a new life?"

"Because he's not you, and because somewhere back in his little weasel head, he always believed that Pemberley, the estate where he grew up, was his. And now that he knows that he is a Darcy and that he is the firstborn Darcy, he not only believes it, he is doing what's necessary to get what he thinks is his inheritance back."

"Father should have..." spat Fitzwilliam, immediately stopped by his father-in-law.

"Fathers are men too, Fitzwilliam. And they do make mistakes! Your father's mistake had consequences he really tried to correct. His only failure has been that he didn't speak to you. He should have. For the rest, even his raising of his bastard son, I do believe he did the best he could without bringing shame and dishonor on his name and his family. He just couldn't imagine that he was raising such a dangerous snake..."

He sighed.

"But then, what mistakes a father made, another one should be able to correct... First thing when Jane is able to make the trip, I'll take her and the rest of the family back to London, officially to get her and her husband together. In truth, I'll be there for quite another business. I'll..."

A loud knock on the door made Mrs. Reynolds frown. Hadn't she given orders? She walked to the door and opened it rather briskly. A dripping wet man in a cape covering a blue and white uniform looked at her with very decided black eyes.

"A message for Madame d'Arcy!" the man said with a heavy French accent. "From London. And it's not happy news..."


	32. London Business

Time to speak about important things...

* * *

**Chapter thirty-two: London Business**

* * *

**London. Wednesday the first, September. **

* * *

"Glad to see you, gentlemen," said Lebrun, standing up and going around his –_well, in reality, d'Arcy's_– desk and holding out his open hand in the French manner. They bowed and shook hands with the French Consul, and soon they were sitting, rather relaxed, facing each other in armchairs, a glass of d'Arcy's exquisite port in hand or on a nearby table.

Since the host had chosen to greet them in English, the conversation could go on in English.

"We come directly from my nephew's bedside. He shows progress, but he still hasn't recovered consciousness. The doctors didn't dare to give us more than small talk... It seems you'll have to be burdened with more work than you probably intended when you came to visit your new departments!"

Lebrun let every necessary polite facial expression glide onto his face to mark his compassion and the fact that he was indeed suffering with the family of the injured. But he was as aware as every other old politician that his vis-à-vis' remark had more than one sense.

_Indeed, I know he's your nephew, and I haven't forgotten that he's still alive and that, should he come back to life, he could undo almost anything I'm going to decide. But for now, I'm the boss and you agree to recognize it. As you recognize the fact that you and your company are French now_...

Lebrun rubbed his hands together, an old habit he would gladly be rid of, but for now, he was just too contented to give it any importance.

_Everything's quite satisfying_...

He let a few seconds go along and was quite impressed with the gentlemen's iron will.

Well, it would be his turn to speak.

"Well," he said, "let's not waste more time than necessary. I'm not thrilled with my current situation. Sitting in d'Arcy's seat was never my intention, but it would be a lie to say that I'm devastated by the occurrence. It was not my intention to stay in England for more than a few days, but now, of course, I'll stay as long as the Proconsul is in the care of _his_ doctors."

He had taken great care to accentuate the fact that the doctors were d'Arcy's men. He had no say in d'Arcy's survival or release from of the doctor's care.

"England needs a ruling hand in this period of turmoil..."

Mr. Gardiner, the uncle and senior partner on the company's ruling board, nodded his agreement.

"Indeed, it is a very good thing that you were here and still in sufficiently good health to take over. London wouldn't have liked General Duroc taking over. He's rather feared with his reputation..."

"And it's a good thing he is. I'm sure it helped to maintain the hotheads at an acceptable level of calm and wisdom..." Lebrun pointed toward the desk, where quite a few files were open, and sighed. "I have had the opportunity to look over the Proconsul's files, and I must say that England is in a much better state than I would have thought for a country just invaded and conquered..."

"His campaign was a real model of what to do to preserve a country's infrastructure. I believe we lost only a bridge, and it was the doing of the British Army. For the rest, there were only minor cases of arson and robbery, all dealt with with speed and efficiency." Mr. Gardiner smiled at his vis-à-vis. "All in all, the population of England _is_ sorry to be under the French yoke, but as for now, there's no fear in the land of what could happen next. D'Arcy has managed to reassure the people that they will not pay the price for our old ruler's inadequacy."

Lebrun nodded and took a sip of his –excellent– port wine.

"And I really intend to go on just as he intended it."

He stood up, went to the desk, and took a file. A rather thick one.

"I have looked at his tax income forecasting, and I'm impressed with the amount he believes his new tax system will be able to bring into the republic's coffers." He smiled at Mr. Gardiner. "And I must say that I was even more impressed by the amount he believes the company will be able to pay to the state..."

"Pending the tax and franchise reform," said Mr. Gardiner.

Lebrun came back and sat at his place.

"Indeed, pending the tax and franchise reform." He looked Mr. Gardiner in the eyes. "Were you part of this rather revolutionary tax overhaul?"

Mr. Gardiner nodded and took great care to stay calm and relaxed, because that tax reform was his own brainchild he had thought of for years without seeing any chance of it coming into existence, what with his system taxing everybody, even the gentry and the clergy.

"We were, monsieur, we were. I had thought about it for years. And even if I knew that it would never come into existence, I continued to think about it and smooth the edges."

Lebrun took out a blue file and opened it. It was marked "France."

"You had a rather lively interest in France's economy, Mr. Gardiner."

"Because it was the most likely country where my tax reform could find defenders, Mr. Lebrun. Do you really believe that England's ruling class would have looked at it even if it would have increased the country's wealth in the long run?"

Lebrun shook his head.

"No, they wouldn't. Nor would have the French aristocracy. They were too lost in their own dreams to understand that the world needed changes." He showed the blue file to his guests. "This is even more revolutionary, Mr. Gardiner! It speaks of a real nation with a real income and very readable follow-ups..." He looked at some pages in the file. "What do you call it? Ah, yes, here it is..." He looked at his vis-à-vis. "_Statesurvey,_ you named it... You really believe that it's necessary to collect such a great deal of information?"

Mr. Gardiner's nod was vehement. Could it be that this Lebrun was really interested in his tax plan?

"Of course it is, Mr. Lebrun. Do you really believe you can trust a man with your money without having a way to look into his accounts?" He didn't let Lebrun answer. "I don't! I know that it takes an honest man to forget his interests to defend those of others, those of his country included... Without means to look at people's real wealth, do you really believe they will confess what they earn? No, Mr. Lebrun, no... They will always try to cheat you."

Lebrun could only chuckle. He had known many people in his life, and most of them were exactly as his guest described them.

"I'm sure they would, Mr. Gardiner. I've seen it too many times. Are you sure your _statesurvey_ will be enough?"

"Of course it will _not_ be enough, but it will drastically lessen the rate of thieving. And it will give the tax service a way to '_smell_' when a firm makes a false declaration..."

Lebrun stopped his speech with a hand gesture.

"Please, not that you are not interesting, and not that I'm not interested, but your tax reform plan is not the reason I wanted to see you."

Mr. Gardiner stopped and shut his mouth.

"Sorry to pull you out of a favorite subject, but I'm sure my next subject will be quite as interesting for you, if not more..."

Both his guests frowned. What could be more interesting than a tax system that could bring efficiency and justice into a nation's life?

Lebrun took a deep breath and pulled a list out of his jacket pocket. He handed it over to Mr. Gardiner, who looked it over.

"Names and sums?"

"Names of people interested in investing in the company and the sums they would like to invest... At least."

Mr. Gardiner nodded and gave the list to the silent young man who, until now, had said nothing. He looked at the list, and a little smile appeared on his handsome and jovial face.

"Interesting people with, for a majority of them, interesting assets..."

He looked at Lebrun, who made a dismissive hand gesture.

"Please, it's yours. I have my own copy."

The list was looked over by Bingley one last time and went back to Mr. Gardiner.

"It's quite a surprise, Monsieur Lebrun. We would all have bet great sums that most of these people would try to smother our company..."

"They looked it up, Mr. Gardiner, and came to the conclusion that it would cost them too much money without any real result. It would only make you lose a year or two, and overall, it would have cost everybody tremendous sums with the risk of giving another company somewhere a head start."

He smiled at his guests.

"Can something be done?"

Mr. Gardiner took a last look at the list and gave it back to his junior partner.

"Charles, can something be done?"

Charles Bingley's face was soon lighted by a very handsome and open smile.

"Indeed there is... But we await more from our partners than money, Mr. Lebrun. We ask for what could very well be called _allegiance_. We make the decisions and, once a year, we present the results of said decisions to all the partners with the financial rewards their partnership has brought. If at the end of our presentation, a majority of partners decides that we haven't done our best and decides to bust us, they can do it, but only if two-thirds of the money invested agrees with them."

Lebrun nodded.

"We have studied your business contract, and all the partners on the list agree to follow the same rules. It will, nevertheless, shift the blocking minority."

"No, it won't," said Charles Bingley. "There is a clause in the contract that gives the other shareholders the right to invest in order to keep and preserve the existent majority rules in the company. And I have no doubt that the major shareholder will be willing to increase his present shareholding."

Lebrun tried not to grit his teeth too audibly.

_Of course he could; he would only have to pick a few of the stolen ingots out of his secret coffins._

Bingley looked at the list one last time.

"I cannot help noticing that your name is not included. Aren't you interested?"

Before Lebrun could answer, Bingley stopped him.

"Let's be very clear that we are not proposing a bribe in the form of shares, Monsieur Lebrun. We wouldn't do such a thing, but we have no scruples about accepting members of our government as official shareholders. We don't believe in the fairytale of _separate_ interests. We know that politicians need money to stay in power and in touch. So we agree with them being shareholders. And, of course, it's also clearly in the company's interest. Our company is open to everyone's inquiries, and we will never deny our connections to the ruling class. We believe in _shared_ interests. What's good for the country must be good for the company! If it's not, then there is a problem, and we have to solve it soon. And last, but not least, we want the competitors to be honest, so we'll be an honorable example in everything, even revealing the identities and other interests of our shareholders."

Lebrun smiled and nodded.

"Family members are on the list. Two of my sisters' husbands and my wife..."

"If you want to be a shareholder, don't hesitate! We will greet you with great satisfaction since it will demonstrate to all the valor of our undertaking."

Bingley shot him his best charming smile.

"Same is true for _other_ members of _our_ government..."

The invitation was indeed very clear, and Lebrun would inform –_through the adequate and regular channels_– his co-rulers of that new business opportunity.

"You are the proud owners of a bank, I heard..."

Both Mr. Gardiner and Bingley remained very composed.

"Indeed, we are," agreed Mr. Gardiner. "Would you like to open an account, Monsieur Lebrun? Our establishment is, thanks to a safe deposit policy, able to make you very interesting loans... It has happened that for a deposit of thousand, we would agree to a loan of three thousand if the business in which the accountholder wants to invest seems sound and safe."

"I do believe I have such a business in mind, Mr. Gardiner."

"Then why not use the remaining time to discuss your business opportunities?"

Lebrun's smile was small, but his eyes were sparkling. This visit to England would soon be an overall success.  
_

* * *

George Darcy couldn't believe it. He just received a message from his spies about his former acolytes, who were safely in Wales, thank you, and the content of the message left him completely flabbergasted.

Thanks to his experience in Cambridge, he had always known intimately that aristocrats were not worth the waste they produced, but never would he have thought that these three idiots would not only fail to do the job they were commandeered for, but that they would be betrayed by their own body guards!

_Bloody incompetents! Nothing to do but to enter a defenseless woman's room and stab her, and they failed!_

Next time, he would engage French killers. The French were the people who tried things and, as they had seen, succeeded...

He sighed and tried to calm himself. He was walking down Baker Street and could not afford to be seen in such a bad mood. He knew that hurting somebody or something would lessen his anger and frustration, but there were things a George Wickham could do that a George Darcy could not. He turned into a side alley and saw a roaming tomcat that happened to be within his range. He stepped toward the lean feline and tried to kick it viciously. The cat, probably sensible of the approaching human's mood, dodged with grace, jumped away, and spat at him with gusto!

_"Probably a French invader_," Wickham muttered under his breath, looking for some other victim.

A young flower seller probably would have been his next victim of choice had not a member of the new Gendarmerie just turned the corner. Those gendarmes were, for the most part, experienced thieves and robbers who had been pardoned in order to convince them to work for the new authorities, and they were notoriously on the rabble's side when it came to a row between a man of quality and riffraff.

He forced himself to calm down by walking faster. He had to think. What had just happened would not be without consequences for him. He had to think about the whole fiasco and take into consideration what the outcome of his fools' failure would be.

Would they find who was behind that blotched operation? If they did not already know, because these idiots could be tracked down, they could not, by looking into the details, fail to discover that these bloody incompetents entered the house by abnormal means. And it was more than probable that Mrs. Reynolds would remember the walled secret passage. And they would investigate who in the Darcy household had known about it. His father's name would come up, and soon they would point at him out of sheer scandal-mongering if for no other good reason.  
And they would come after him like bloodhounds...

Would they?

A smile grew on George's face.

No, they wouldn't. Now that he was a Darcy, he was immune to every legal action coming from his brother Fitzwilliam. Never would Fitzwilliam besmirch the Darcy name.

But that would not protect him against a lurking killer and a knife in the back. General Fitzwilliam would not hesitate, and he knew enough penniless old buddies to find plenty of willing assassins. But then, general Fitzwilliam was abroad in one of late future King George's trunks, wasn't he?

The old Bennet who would probably be rather upset with the attempt against his daughter? George laughed at the picture he just summoned! What would he have to fear from an old, incompetent gentleman farmer?

No, his real problem was and would be d'Arcy. He would not hesitate to have him arrested and tortured. And, since their little "conversation" in d'Arcy's headquarters at Brighton, he was quite sure that he would confess every little sin of his whole life if the same gifted torturer was working on him. Since he had tried to kill his beloved wife, d'Arcy would probably take great pleasure in doing it himself. And he had no doubt that d'Arcy's skills in the matter were quite sufficient to convince a cat to bark!

Fortunately, d'Arcy was, just for now and quite a few days more, out on business. He would use these days to prepare what was needed to ensure that what had begun so badly finally ended in great triumph.

He sighed. His timing had been perfect, yet neither of his attempts had brought the result he wished for! God really did not like him!

He smiled when an ugly new idea struck him. There was a reward on the heads of the culprits who had tried to kill d'Arcy and Lebrun. He could denounce them, could he not? Everybody likes to have five thousand more pounds in his wallet, doesn't he? And those Irish fools he had hired were complete idiots to trust him and his gang to shelter them... Even if they had done _most _of what they had been hired for, in the end they had achieved nothing!

_He_ was still alive, and soon _he_ would be sniffing the assassin's trail. But, because there was a _but_, meanwhile it was that bloody idiot Lebrun who was in charge. If he could get him the intelligence about the Irish hideout, the would-be killer would probably be beheaded before d'Arcy could work his filthy trade on him. And the only witness of his interference would have died without having spoken of his sleeping partner. Earning him five thousand pounds in the bargain…

George thought harder: and what if Lebrun made a thorough investigation? What importance would it have? That Irish scum knew no name. He had only seen a silhouette and heard a voice. And these belonged to dear Fitzwilliam! So even if that idiot would-be killer sang like a bird, no trail would point toward him. Not one a fool like Lebrun could follow.

D'Arcy could have! But by the time he would come out of the hospital, his little Irish accomplice should have lost his head. And even d'Arcy, that lucky bastard, could not make dead bodies speak.

George snarled at the cat that was angrily following him.

"D'Arcy probably has nine lives just like you! But even an ugly tomcat like you dies one day, and I'll prove it!" said George, taking his pistol out of his holster.

Not without experience with vicious humans, the tomcat jumped over the nearest wall and disappeared with a last defiant snarl.

"One day, I'll get you, d'Arcy... Nobody can outsmart a Darcy, not even a d'Arcy!"

_Or a Darcy, for that_, thought George. _I'm quite sure that Lebrun could be pushed into believing Fitzwilliam was behind the whole plot._

Had he not every reason to hate his "brother"?

George's bad mood disappeared. Yes! If he acted fast enough and pushed Lebrun to act swiftly, he could perhaps get his _little _brother guillotined before his _elder_ brother even woke up...


	33. Pemberley Thoughts

Time to think about the future...

* * *

**Chapter thirty three: Pemberley Thoughts**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley. Friday the second September. **

* * *

"I never saw Papa being so angry as yesterday," said Kitty while exiting at Georgiana's side the parlor whose chimney was so profitably shared with Fitzwilliam's study. "I do really believe he would kill our half brother..."

"I'm sure of it. His voice was real hard and unforgiving. He seems quite decided to deal with George."

Kitty looked at her sister.

"I know what happened and if you don't want to speak of it, just say it, but I'd like to know him better. How was he?"

Georgiana thought about it for a few seconds and soon decided that it did no more bother her.

George had tried and it could be considered that he had been misled by confused feelings. Not that she had believed a single word of his latest letter, of course. But she had be tempted to see him again. He was her brother after all, wasn't he.

Now it was quite certain that Fitzwilliam would never let him come near her again. Not in that life time!

"He was and he had always been with me a charming and helpful fellow. He was, in a certain way, while Fitzwilliam was absent or at school my Knight protector... He was always kind and always did what I asked him to do..." She smiled at her younger self. "I must admit that the selfish little girl I was used and abused him... But he didn't seem to bother. He was just his same old charming and smiling self..." She sighed and bit her lower lips. "I should not have been fooled but I liked him and he was there when I was alone with a grumbling and austere father..."

A smile came on her lips.

"He was the only one who smiled at me. Even Fitzwilliam, when he was at home was always so stern and severe." She looked at Kitty. "Now I know why, but at that period Wickham, was quite the contrary of Fitzwilliam. Never brooding, never always serious... I do believe I had a crush for him when I was a little girl..."

"I can very easily imagine," said Kitty. "Save Jane who never liked him, we were all rather besotted with 'dear Wickham'." She leaned over to Georgiana and whispered. "Even Mary was in love with him... I saw her reading and upside down Forsyte while he was in our parlor..."

That brought a laugh from both girls who could very well imagine poor Mary in love with the charming 'dear Wickham'.

* * *

"It's still raining," sighed Elizabeth while looking at the water splattered window.

"It's of no importance, dear" smiled Jane who was sitting in an armchair near the fire pit where a fire was warming her. "Would it have been a perfect walking day, you wouldn't have accepted to go out and let me alone..."

Elizabeth turned and smiled at her sister.

"You know me too well, dear..."

"I have quite a few years of experience with you, Lizzie. And never have I been disappointed with my little sister."

Lizzie smiled at her and came to sit on the chair's arm.

"Is that true? Weren't you a little disappointed with me that I was so adamantly against Mr. Darcy?"

"Not disappointed, Lizzie. Sorry you didn't take the time to see the way he looked at you. I'm sure he was enamored the first second he looked into your eyes..."

Lizzie let her smile drift into the realm of reverie.

"And I must admit that when I looked for the first time into _his_ eyes, what _I _saw was the most handsome young man ever," admitted Lizzie. "And I was so very anxious to get an opportunity to dance with him..." She winked at her sister. "And since my dear sister was being besieged by this gentleman's best friend I saw myself very sure to just get that wished-for opportunity..."

She sighed.

"You know the rest of the story, dear. 'Pride and Prejudice' or how two people in love can make their lives and those of their friends and family into real nightmares..."

Jane patted her hand.

"Don't say that... It was not so terrible..."

"Yes it was," insisted Lizzie. "Fitzwilliam manipulated Charles in order to make him stop seeing you and..."

She stopped and laughed.

"Dear, it just came into my mind that _all_ Darcys with or without apostrophe are devious and skilled manipulators. No wonder we fall for them, honest and straightforward as we are, we stood no chance..."

"Not to discount that they can be _sooo_ charming," added Jane before nodding at the fire. "Yes, you're probably right, we stood no chance..."

They were interrupted by a light knock.

"Georgiana," whispered Elizabeth.

"I'd say Kitty," said Jane just before speaking out loud.

"Come in, dear..."

The door opened and there stood Georgiana and Kitty.

"Both won," chuckled Lizzie while Jane invited the two girls to enter.

"Papa just announced that we would go to London as soon as you're ready to travel, Jane." She closed the door. "He says that _you two_ –_meaning Geoffrey and you_– need to be together but I'm quite sure he doesn't say the whole truth. He's so unusually grim..."

"How could he not," said Georgiana. "He just saw two of his daughters being kidnapped and you should have heard the tongue lashing he gave Fitzwilliam when he thought that nobody was listening... If only half of what he said is true, I'm very fortunate to still have a brother..." She lowered her voice. "He called Fitzwilliam a '_brain dead chicken_' if you can imagine..."

Jane looked at Lizzie and no she couldn't imagine their dear father calling his favorite son a 'brain dead chicken'!

"Why, by God?" whispered Jane.

"because he charged against men armed with guns with only his sword..." answered Kitty. "And I'm quite agreeing with him, it is a foolish gesture."

"But," intervened Georgiana, "it should never happen again since Mr. Bennet is now teaching him tactics. It's quite interesting..."

"Is he also teaching you?"

"Yes," said Kitty.

"No," said Georgiana.

"You're again eavesdropping..." scolded Elizabeth who, being sister to both could be a little stricter with them.

"Not really," countered Kitty. "There's no door involved. So it's more a matter of over hearing than eavesdropping..."

"Since when are you studying law, Kitty," asked Jane with a smile. "One could swear Uncle Philips was speaking."

"I'd like to be a lawyer or a judge," answered Kitty very interested in pushing the conversation on any other new subject. "I'm quite sure there's no reason why women could not be as impartial –_or partial for that matter_– as men."

Jane smiled at her little sister.

"We'll see what we can do for you in that new political order of us. Perhaps there are possibilities now that were not open before. I'll talk with Geoffrey as soon as he is ready to."

Georgiana looked at Jane and the later saw admiration in the eyes of her young sister.

"Are you not worried? The message just said he survived an assassination attempt and is still unconscious. I would be out of myself with worry if it were Fitzwilliam."

Jane –_slowly_– shook her head.

"No need, dear. I feel he'll be well. And there wasn't a day where he didn't warn me that he was a soldier and a man with more enemies than friends and that such a thing could happen to him at every moment. I prepared myself for just such an event," lied she. "And besides, I really feel that he is already better." She winked at the young girl. "Such things happen when two people truly love each other. So, you see, there's no reason for me to worry more than necessary. He has the best surgeons available and my worrying will bring him nothing. My confidence, on the contrary, will be a much better medicine for him _and_ for me. When I'll join him, I'm quite sure that he will not only be conscious but probably up and pestering the doctors to be let out."

She looked at Kitty.

"When does Papa want to move?"

"He didn't say, he will await the doctor's advice. Mama is quite sure that after having been hit by a bullet that shattered your skull –_her words_– we should wait till Christmas to be sure..."

Jane smiled at that comment.

"Dear mama, always worrying for everything. I hope she didn't freak out when we were kidnapped?"

"No she was calm and steadfast. As if nothing could shatter her patience. It was only when they brought the three of you back and she saw you all unconscious and bloody that she lost it. She was back her real self in a matter of seconds." She looked puzzled. "In a certain way seeing her acting as of old relieved us. I'm quite sure even Lydia was more than a bit scared with that other calm and commanding mama..." A mischievous giggle covered her next words and everybody looked at Lizzie.

She apologized with a smile before explaining.

"She was probably thinking of what her live would have looked like if mama had always been calm and commanding. Can you imagine Longbourn with a strict and frowning Mistress? It wouldn't have been the same..."

"No it wouldn't," agreed Jane... "We often complained but I'm now quite persuaded that we had the happiest youth young ladies can wish for. We were loved and cuddled and spoiled where others were commanded, drilled and taught by strangers. I, for my part –_the nerves part hopefully not included_– I am quite sure I'll be as lenient and tolerant as mama and I'll do my best that my girls have the same freedom I got."

Georgiana sighed and Jane took her hand.

"Sorry for having awaken bad memories. But I'm sure that, even without your parents, you were loved and taken care of, not commandeered and drilled to be a perfect soulless lady. Fitzwilliam did his best and I must confess that what I see is much better than what I saw in other houses where the parents were still alive."

Georgiana smiled back.

"I'm not melancholy, Jane. I too know now that I, within the circumstances, had a marvelous youth. And nobody can take that away from me. I just hope that one day I'll have the same feelings than you about the man I love."

Jane winked at her.

"As recent past demonstrates, it seems possible after all, doesn't it? Lizzie and I just found the perfect gentlemen we both needed. Why should it be different for you? You're a smart, pretty and young lady whose family connections have just undergone a major enhancement. Considering these circumstances you should be able to coax some smart, handsome and interesting gentleman to fall in love with you..."

Georgiana frowned.

"I don't want to coax anybody. I'm just hoping I'll be able to recognize a liar from an honest man..."

Elizabeth couldn't help but intervene.

"Don't worry, dear, I don't believe any liar will survive your brothers' investigations. What will come through will be sanctioned by both Darcy and d'Arcy. The real question will be if anyone will be able to survive said investigations..."

"There's always the possibility to change our names and go somewhere where nobody knows us," said Kitty. "So we would be sure to attract only young men who are not interested with our money or connections..."

Jane and Elizabeth shared an amused glance.

Had they been really so naive a few years ago?

More than probably the answer was yes...

* * *

"Checkmate," said Mary... "You are not at the game, Lydia. Both your last games were way better."

Lydia snorted and began to put the tokens away.

"Enough for today, Mary. I'd like to speak with you about our future."

Mary seemed surprised.

"With me? About our future?"

"Indeed with you," answered Lydia. "Because you are the only one who is really listening to me. Jane and Lizzie do no longer need my battle plan and Kitty won't budge from her infatuation with Bingley. So that leaves you and me..."

"Indeed that leaves you and me..."

Lydia leaned forward toward her sister.

"Do you believe, like Kitty, that my enterprise is silly?"

"Not at all," answered Mary. "Quite the contrary! I do believe that your approach of the problem is the only clever and organized one. What is, in my opinion, really ridiculous is your decision to grab an aristocrat at all price. There are other distinguished and honorable men who are not members of the aristocracy who would be interested in marrying a pretty, intelligent, rich and well connected young lady like us."

Lydia made a face.

"Indeed but if I concentrate on aristocrats it's because there are much more to learn about them then over other men coming out of other layers of the British society."

Mary shook her head.

"That's another of the failings of your strategy. You're reducing the number of candidates to British nationals. Why? You could include easily Frenchmen –_aren't we French_?– and Italians or Germans. I do believe we should also include young handsome and rich Americans. With brother Geoffrey responsible for Louisiana, it would not be very surprising if he were not, sooner or later, approached by wealthy Americans. And those wealthy Americans could very well have fathered young handsome gentlemen who should not, from the beginning, be considered as unworthy..."

Lydia exhaled heavily.

"But Mary, that makes thousands of prospective mates. Never will we be able to get information on every one of them."

"Where's the problem? If we have no information he just does not enter our list, that's all! But believe me even those on whom we will get information will be quite numerous..."

Lydia took one of her favorite book "Aristocracy of the United Kingdom" and opened it at random.

"Edward Kincaid, Earl of Klanthorne..."

Ten minutes later they knew everything about _this_ twenty seven years old earl. His curriculum, his sporting habits and, last but not least, the size of his estates and, thanks to a few hints, the wealth he was possessing.

"Indeed," approved Mary, "there are quite a lot of information about aristocrats in these books, but there are two little problems we should not forget about the editors of these books. First: they are, by profession, indulgent and friendly toward the people they describe. Were they not they would soon lose all readership. Second: the information they publish are, for the most part, only positive information. Have you ever found a description of a miser or a lecher in these columns? Not once, do I err? What can we, than, conclude?"

Lydia sighed.

"They arrange the information, don't they?"

"Indeed they do and it's normal. Which gentleman in his right mind would accept to be described as a miser and lecher? How could he survive within the _ton_ with such negative information officially published on him?"

She looked at her sister and waited.

After a moment Lydia sighed and closed the book.

"So what you say is that all these information are untrue?"

"Not necessarily. What I say is that what we should know about their character flaws we'll have to learn through other means..."

"Other means?"

"Indeed, other means, Lydia. There are people out there, news editors for the most part, who know about those characters' defects and who use them for their own benefit. We could use these people's knowledge for _our_ benefit..."

Lydia shook her head.

"Why would they speak to us? We are..."

She stopped abruptly.

"Yes, you are right, they _would _speak to us! We are no longer nobodies out of Hertfortshire. We are d'Arcy's sisters!" She clapped her hands. "Yes! Yes! Yes! They will speak to us because they will be interested in what we could inform them..."

Her enthusiasm was immediately dampened.

"They will want something in exchange, Mary. How can we be sure that what we give them will not make d'Arcy angry?"

Mary shook her head and scolded her sister.

"Lydia, think! How can we be sure that what we give to a news editor has Geoffrey's agreement?"

There was a few seconds long silence before Lydia uttered:

"We ask him?"

That was rewarded with a smile.

"Indeed, we ask him and we speak only about what he wants! So we'll get what we want and we give our brother the opportunity to give to the people the bits of information he wants to be known."

Mary looked at her sister and smiled. A very rare smile since it was a smile of utter contentment.

"And than there's another benefit of asking brother d'Arcy about what we can and cannot speak about with news editors. While asking we could be able to let him know what information _we_ are seeking by speaking with the newspaper men." She winked at her sister. "If there's one thing that I'm sure of, than it is that Geoffrey knows more about everybody of interest in Great Britain than even the King's Master Spy. Who knows, he could be willing to help us complete certain holes in our lists..."

Mary's smile was evidently contagious.

Yes, why not ask their brother to help them. He wouldn't refuse and he could even be of good advice on other important subjects.

Lydia looked at her sister and pointed the door.

"We should go visit Jane. I'm impatient to know her actual state of health..."

"So am I," said Mary. "So am I..."


	34. London Bad News

When two old enemies meet again...

* * *

**Chapter thirty four: London Bad news**

* * *

**London. Friday the second September. **

* * *

Richard Fitzwilliam was angry.

Angry on so much different levels that he was truly unable to decide what was angering him most.

_Let's go through the list, man and find out what angers you more than the rest_.

There was that affair with the Fitzwilliam Town House that stood at very good place. Thoroughly plundered and devastated. But then there were other things.

Best to begin with the beginning...

They had arrived in London and d'Arcy had invited them for the remaining of the first night to stay at the Palace.

Since the Fitzwilliam Town House would not be open, he had accepted and he and his men had even been able to go back to their old rooms.

They had found them in exactly the same state they had abandoned them a few days earlier.

Everything was as they had left it. There had been no looting and no visible search.

He had asked the servants and had learned that apart from a few dozen guards who came from outside the Town to guard the Palace there were no French troops in Town.

Not even Duroc lived at the Palace. He came from time to time but never stayed long.

That would have changed only when d'Arcy –and his wife– would have come to live in London. It was probably already different with d'Arcy's injured body hosted at the Palace Royal Hospital.

But the next morning, while d'Arcy had gone looking for the secretly arriving Lebrun, he and his aides had gone to open the Fitzwilliam Town House.

He was the official English envoy and he needed a place where he could be approached.

Why not the Fitzwilliam Town House while looking for a more official Embassy.

It was already open.

Open and gutted in a way that brought tears to the general's eyes.

He had never liked that House. He had always preferred the Darcy Town House where he was always welcome and treated like a second son.

He and his men had entered the shattered door and found a few people rummaging through what was not yet stolen or destroyed.

Of course most of them fled as soon as they had seen the red uniforms and those more courageous or more foolish had fled when they has seen Fitzwilliam's face.

He grabbed the last one who tried to flee and looked her in the eyes.

"Five pounds for you if you can get me a carpenter and a few workmen within the next hour..."

He was lucky she didn't die from a heart stroke but once recovered she got him his carpenter and herself five pounds.

To see his house devastated and ruined had definitely ruined his day... The carpenter, who lived in the area, has tried to explain what has happened.

As quite a few Town Houses in London, the Fitzwilliam Town House had been visited by burglars a few nights before. But if usually the burglars did try to let the house in apparent good shape it was not the case with the Fitzwilliam house. Just after having stolen everything that was valuable, they had burst out the doors and the windows in order to let be known that the House was open...

And soon like a swarm of locust a herd of black shadows had fallen over the house. And when the Gendarmerie finally arrived, no more than an hour after sun rise, there was nothing left to save. Quite a few looters were arrested and imprisoned but the ugly fact of the looting was already a done thing.

He was hired to close the openings but each night they were crashed and the looting began for new.

"Hire as much people you need but I want my House with doors and windows as soon as possible. I'll let a pair of my men to guard and the next looters will just go away with less plunder but with a little more lead than they like."

He sighed.

"What happened to my people?"

"They have been assaulted and injured. No death but not one has come out of that night without a severe injury. Some are still at the hospital, most are at home with family..."

"My butler?"

"Still injured and at the hospital. He was severely mugged and beaten. He must have fought the robbers..."

"It was his duty but, as usual, he probably did more than his duty..." sighed Richard. "I'll have to visit him and get him out of the hospital. There are way too many ways to die in that rat hole..."

"It's no longer at the Pickham Road. The French have opened a new hospital at Saint Andrews'. They have taken over the Old Monastery and installed beds and offices where their doctors can consult. There's quite a crowd there, now... The ill and the injured can be healed for a penny a day... Or if the family has no money, the members of the family who volunteer can help to care for the ill and injured as a payment..."

He chuckled.

"Since the helpers have the same meal as the doctors there are quite a few who help there. Never seen a hospital scrubbed so many times a day... You could eat on the floor now... Furthermore it's much better organized than before and the doctors and surgeons are all officers of the French army. The rumor says that the care is good for all and everyone..."

Those news didn't really lighten Richard's mood.

He hated it when d'Arcy had done things that should have been done for decades and that just had not been done because nobody had the will to force the government to do his job.

He shook his head and hit the remains of what had been an ugly vase offered, a long time ago, by Lady Catherine. For years he had had the wish to shatter it. And now somebody else had done it!

There was really no justice in this world.

"And you say there have been a lot of these plundering frenzies?"

The carpenter shook his head.

"Not really. A lot of Town Houses have been visited but only a few have been left open for the crowd to plunder. I've heard of two others. Lords Fitzroy's house and Lord Parrish'. The late one was even put on fire. The arsonist have been guillotined yesterday." The carpenter made a face.

"Interesting way to kill people but rather disappointing..."

"Why so?"

"No blood jet," explained the man. "They all said that with a cut so precise we would see the blood spray a few yards... But the blade of the apparatus stops it all. But I must say the showing off of the heads is quite a spectacle..."

Fitzwilliam shook his head and went to the other workmen to give orders. There was no need to try to save anything. Everything was crushed and he would have to buy all anew. Luckily the looters had not –_yet_– began to rip out the floors and the wall panels. The house was still safe and could be easily rebuilt.

He was just looking with tearful eyes at what was left of their garden when a rider arrived in what looked like a great hurry.

He was one of d'Arcy's bodyguards and that he was here alone boded nothing well.

"Général," said he without even dismounting. "There was an assassination attempt on the Consul and the Proconsul. The Consul is safe but the Proconsul is badly injured. He has been transported to the Palace which is from now on no longer accessible to personnel of enemy Nations. It is now Consul Lebrun who has the say. If you want to speak with him he is at the Palace..."

"How are d'Arcy's injuries?"

"Bad! The doctors don't say it but he has a bad head wound and is unconscious without reactions to outside poking..." The guard shook his head and Fitzwilliam could see that there were tears in his eyes. "Not good, not good at all..."

And with these words he was turning his horse and galloping away.

Richard looked after him as long as possible.

"I'm wondering why they came to inform you, General," said Mayfayr. "In such a particular situation we should not be on the need to know list..."

"You're right but who knows with d'Arcy. I'm family and he has perhaps given orders that family should be informed in case of his..." He stopped. Even if he had hoped to get an occasion to kill the man he could not rejoice in what had just happened. He was an enemy but he was an honorable enemy and no soldier deserved to die in a cowardly assassination attempt...

"Injuries..." said he finally.

He turned toward Mayfayr.

"What about your Town House?"

"Not yet plundered, Sir. There was an attempt but a patrol of gendarmes got in the way of the robbers. They fled and since then there are regular police patrols in the street at night."

"Take your day and organize something to be sure that nobody will get at it. You've still people in Town?"

"I really don't know. I hope so but it could be that my family has fled just after firing everybody. They were not very popular with our servants."

"Go and look what can be saved. Don't look at the expense. We'll manage one way or the other. What we have to do now is save what's salvageable!"

Mayfayr saluted, took a man with him and was gone within a few seconds.

* * *

Two hours later general Richard Fitzwilliam was entering the Darcy Town House.

As he had hoped, the house was open and in perfect shape. The presence of a few discreet agents around the House having probably a lot to do with the state of the house.

"General, what a pleasure to see you safe and sound and in London..." said Bowser the Darcy butler who knew Richard for as long as he could remember.

Bowser's smile disappeared and his face was covered with sadness.

"I'm sorry about what happened with your family's townhouse. We learned about only two days after it happened and we could save nothing..."

The general frowned at the old family retainer.

"You knew what happened? Why haven't you decided to launch the necessary repairs? I'm sure Mr. Darcy would have covered the expenses for me."

This time the butler face showed worry.

"I asked, but Mr. Darcy was of the opinion that there was nothing we could do."

"Mr. Darcy? Fitzwilliam was here?"

The butler shook vehemently his head.

"Not the Master, general. The Master is in Pemberley where he married a Miss Bennet..." The tone was not a happy one. Clearly the choice of a country lady had not been the favorite choice of the Town House servants. They were Londoners after all and they would have loved to have a Lady of the _ton_ becoming their Mistress. But that would never be...

"No," went on Bowser. "I'm speaking of the Master's brother, Mr. George Darcy..."

Richard was flabbergasted and for a few seconds he lost his wit. George Darcy? Who could be this George Darcy? He was sure that nobody called George has ever been a member of the Darcy family...

Misunderstanding Richard's face, Bowser went to his study and brought back the letter the Master's brother in law had sent a day before the arrival of Mr. Darcy.

He hold it out to Richard who took it still wondering what part of the story he had failed to listen to.

He took the letter and read.

_To the staff of the Darcy family's Town House_

_Hereby we inform you that the Darcy family includes a new member. Mr. George Darcy, brother of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, has been recognized as the son of Reginald Darcy and is therefor authorized to use the Darcy family holdings. Please welcome him if and when he asks to be sheltered. Please open him a private account since he will want to follow his expenses and know the state of his finances._

_He's free to chose where he wants to settle down while using the Town House._

_Fitzwilliam Darcy Geoffrey d'Arcy_

He was still wondering when the truth struck him like a lightning.

"They can't be serious! That must be a bad joke! It can't be him, it can't be Wickham! Never ever is that shit hole a Darcy. Never!"

He turned towards Bowser and the poor man had no choice but to step back twice.

"Is he here?"

"No, general, he's out. An appointment with his tailor, I believe..."

Richard couldn't help but laugh.

"An appointment with his tailor, indeed!" He looked at Bowser. "And I suppose his tailor is Bronson, as it is for Fitzwilliam?"

Bowser could only nod while being very careful not to let the general come too near.

The general's laughter grew into epic proportions.

"He uses his house, he wears the clothes coming from his tailor..." He came back to the butler. "I suppose he drinks his favorite port wine, too?"

Bowser gulped down his fear and stood straight before his Master's cousin.

"They have quite the same tastes, general, indeed... It's way easier for the staff..."

Richard nodded and looked Bowser in the eyes.

"I'll wait for cousin George," said he in a very cool voice. "Please do note that I want to surprise him and that I would be even more upset that I am just now would he hear of the surprise before I could make him my presence known..."

* * *

George was whistling happily while going in a measured pace toward the study he'd appropriated.

He went in and walked toward the table where the wine dispenser was waiting upon his good pleasure.

He poured himself a glass and sipped it with appraisal.

Then he went to his favorite mirror and smiled at himself.

"We've been very good today George. Everything went as well as it could be..."

There Richard's patience snapped. More because this scoundrel was playing at being Fitzwilliam than because of what he was saying.

Had he been waiting a few seconds more he would have learned quite a few more interesting things.

So he just blew it and stood up.

"Happy to hear that you're satisfied with your day, because it will be your last..."

He was more than satisfied to see Wickham jump almost to the ceiling and loosing and his color and his smug little smile.

"Wha... Wha... Wha..." George while feeling his bowels urge to empty themselves.

"Nice impersonation of a dog, Wickham. Even better than your little stunt at playing Fitzwilliam. But your talents as an actor won't save your life. The Darcy's are perhaps dumb enough to believe that accepting you in the family will make you stop your scheming and plotting, I'm not! I know a snake when I see one and as I often did in my life I'm going to crush you under my feet..." He smiled his most dangerous smile before stepping towards Wickham.

Who came out of his stun, turned, opened a drawer and took a pistol.

The pistol went directly from his hand to Richards who just tossed it behind him.

"Thank you Wickham but I won't need a pistol. I don't intend to kill you swiftly. I have every intention in the world to beat you to death..."

And his right hand made a fast left right while Wickham's head was in the way.

Cornered he could do nothing. Nor dodge nor parry...

Richard's next moves were a punch in the belly, a knee kick in the face and another pair of heavy slaps in the face.

"Don't worry, Wickham, I'm in no hurry. You're not dead yet... I'll take my time, you'll see..."

Seeing a little overture, Wickham tried to run toward the door. Richard's foot found his before he had turned around and he fell just in time to get kicked a few times in the arse...

"You can't kill me, you'll be guillotined! I'm a French citizen..."

"And I'm the King of England's official envoy," answered Richard while viciously kicking him in the face. "And I'm under diplomatic immunity! I could kill you twice and the most they could do to me would be to send me back, wherever back is for me at this moment of my life..."

He snickered viciously.

"You're dead, Wickham, dead, dead, dead..." singsonged Richard. "And I don't know what in heaven could save you... Any interesting idea?"

George crawled backwards while Richard danced around him as if he was on the best dance floor of London.

"You can't," cried George while rolling away. "You would dishonor the Darcy name..."

"I doubt it..." singsonged Richard. "What is dishonoring the Darcy name is _you_ wearing it..."

"They will say you did it on Fitzwilliam's behalf. Because of your immunity and his cowardice!"

That got him a very painful kick in the flank.

"Fitzwilliam is a gentleman," shouted Richard kicking George again. "And you are shit! All your life you've been jealous of him and you have been imitating him, impersonating him and doing as if you were him, Wickham. You don't exist! You're only his envious shadow! He's not the coward, it's you who day after day hides behind his name, his appearance and his voice..."

"Doesn't matter," croaked Wickham while trying to protect too many parts of his body at the same time. "They'll see only that you did it and that he, as usual, stayed away looking at you doing the deed... He even recognized that we share a father... He'll be tainted by your foul murder..."

_That_ stopped Richard.

Yes, now that d'Arcy was probably dying it could happen that the new French authorities took some foolish decisions and had Fitzwilliam arrested. If for nothing else than to get their hands on his Estates.

He couldn't take that sort of risk.

Not with Fitzwilliam's signature under a document recognizing Wickham as his brother...

Richard stopped and crouched at Wickham's side.

"It seems that your golden tongue has, once more saved your live, you stinking scum. But be careful in the next future. I'll be right behind you looking over your shoulder and if I have the least doubt that you are not the charming older half brother I'll shoot you in the head exactly where you stand!"

And with these words he took Wickham sleeve and cleaned the blood sticking on his boots just before leaving a sobbing Wickham alone.

This day had had its bad sides but that last beating has to be placed on the good things side. It would have been better if he could have killed him but the rascal was probably right, rumor would spread and speak against Fitzwilliam.

And as long as a certain general was there to look after him, George would be very mannered indeed.


	35. Pemberley Currents

Old forces, new allies...

* * *

**Chapter thirty five: Pemberley currents**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley. Saturday the third September. **

* * *

"Oh my God..."

Lizzie was up and out even before Fitzwilliam was half awaken.

Never before had his wife done anything similar and he soon was searching to light a candle.

One minute later he had light and could see around him.

And the first thing he saw was his wife's night and dressing gown lying over her favorite armchair.

He was up, in his own dressing gown and out in the corridor in less than two seconds, his wife's clothes on his arm.

He had no doubt where she was and soon found her –_wearing Jane's dressing gown, Thank God_– trying desperately to wake her sister...

"What happened?"

"I dreamed of her dying..." answered Lizzie without ceasing to stroke her sister's face and arms.

She looked at her husband.

"There's blood in her head and it is smothering her brain..."

Fitzwilliam was tempted to ask where, by God, she could be so sure about something that she had only seen in a dream... But he had learned that there were things a smart husband doesn't do when his wife was as upset as just now!

And there were links between the Bennet sisters he would never be able to fathom.

After a few terrible minutes Lizzie stopped and looked up. Her eyes were red and swollen and she looked as if she would any minute collapse.

" You should..." began he but he was immediately interrupted.

"What would be faster to get her to the grove? Carrying her or getting a carriage and bringing her there?"

"The grove? Bringing her there? Why in Heaven would we..."

His wife was up and holding his arm as if she was drowning.

"Don't doubt me now, Fitzwilliam, please. She needs to be brought to the grove or she will die. There's no third option!"

There are moments in the life of any gentleman where he has to make very tough choices. This second at three o'clock in the morning in Jane's bedroom was one of them.

He could choose to listen to his wife and her crazy babbling and probably ruin for ever his self esteem. Or he could choose to bring her to reason and refuse to follow her in her crazed ways.

Had he been married for more than a few weeks he would probably had chosen the second way and it would have, no doubt of it, cast dark shadows on his future as a happy husband.

Being quite the enamored fool and not quite decided to say no to a grief stricken and angst ridden wife he choose to believe her.

He walked over to the bed, took Jane in his arms and looked at his wife.

"Do get us capes and shoes... I hear it's still raining and I wouldn't want you to catch your death in this crazy night venture..."

She was out of the room in less than a second.

* * *

The way could have been horrible with the heavy rain, the howling wind and the rustling trees but, to Fitzwilliam's surprise, it was quite the contrary.

He had really no feeling for tiredness or anxiety. He was just feeling that he was running toward a safe haven burdened with a loved one he had to save.

He didn't know why but as soon as he had been walking on Pemberley's lawn all doubts had vanished to give way to determination and focus.

He had to arrive at the grove in the less possible time. He had to.

All doubts and questions just no longer existed.

He had to go to the grove.

He ran all the way without loosing a pace.

* * *

Once there he knew what he had to do. He helped Lizzie to undress his sister in law and they both let her slid into the pond...

It was only when it was done and when Lizzie had slipped in the pond to hold her sister's head out of the water that he discovered that it had stopped to rain. The sky was still heavily overcast but there was no more rain...

He crouched and soon found out that the moss in the grove was as smooth as usual but not in the least wet as it should have been after so many hours of drenching rain...

_Well it was no more crazy then a sane man bringing his dying sister in law to be plunged in the pond of his own oak grove, was it_?

He shook his head. And laid down next to the pond.

"Could I now have an explanation, dear? I'm not sure you understand what you just made me do..."

"I do understand very well, my love. But there's no explanation to be given. I saw her dead. I saw myself discovering her next morning and I just knew that what she needed was to be immersed in this pond..."

"Just what she needed?" pondered Fitzwilliam. "I would perhaps have chosen calling a doctor first, wouldn't I?"

Lizzie nodded while smiling at him.

"I'm sure you would and I'm even more grateful to you to have been able to believe me. A lot of men wouldn't have..."

He sighed.

"Lizzie, what would you have done if I had refused?"

"I would have carried her myself," came the immediate answer.

Fitzwilliam nodded and smiled while looking at the overcast sky.

"Exactly and I knew the moment I saw your eyes that that was precisely what you were going to do. So I had to make a choice. Do it for you and appear a fool if it brought nothing. Or lose you forever because you would have, till the end of time, been sure that had I allowed you to go to the grove you would have saved her..."

He sighed.

"And that's exactly the reason I've done the carrying and the immersing. But that doesn't mean that I understand why you're here holding your dying sister in an icy pond..."

"It's not icy, you should come..."

Fitzwilliam only shook his head and stood up.

"I'm not immersing myself in the same pond where my sister in law and wife lay naked and, for Jane, unconscious, Lizzie. There are a few things even my violent love for you will never permit."

He crouched over the edge of the pond and gave her a kiss on the brow.

"I'm out searching the doctor... I hope the pond will save your sister, but I'm quite sure I won't try to explain to my brother that I didn't call a doctor because I was sure that being immersed naked in this pond was going to save her." He made a face. "Which, by the side, I'm very not convinced of..."

He could feel Lizzie's smile.

"She'll be fine! When you're back we will be playing hide and seek on the lawns of Pemberley..."

Once more he shook his head.

"If she's really better I want you both in bed as soon as possible!"

She laughed and he cursed the smitten fool he was.

"You'll have to find which bed then, dear..."

He forced himself not to answer. He would not have the last word. It was just one of the few things he had surrendered that famous Sunday when he became the happiest man in the world.

He soon discovered that the rain outside had not stopped! He cursed and began to run toward the stables.

He didn't know it till now but he was discovering a real antipathy for thirds of September!

* * *

"You're back..."

"So it seems, my love."

He took her into his arms and cuddled her.

"I tried, I really tried," said she. "I would have done everything to survive and to bear your children."

"I know, _mon amour_, I know... You even convinced me to go on and to wake up."

"Then do it, dear. Don't let my death deprive the world of your gentleness..."

"There would be no gentleness in me if I survive and you die, mon amour. My wrath will be felt till the end of the world!"

"Don't say that... We found each other and never ever was I so complete than when at your side. These days were worth everything."

"They killed you because of me. I'll kill them to avenge you..."

"It won't bring me back, dear. It will just destroy your life and the lives of everyone else."

"I just cannot go on as if nothing had happened..."

"That's not what I ask you. I just ask not to search revenge. Mourn me and our kids but don't become the monster who's your father's shadow..."

"You fight dirty, my love."

"I don't fight, I just lov... Oh... Something's happening..."

She listened and a big smile came on her lovely and youthful face.

"I'm going back. I'll live... You'll no longer have a choice..."

He kissed her a last time.

"The moment I saw you, I forsake all my choices..."

* * *

A moment she was limp and calm, the next she was struggling and batting her arms in every possible direction.

"Calm," said Lizzie while grabbing her and forcing her to stop moving. "Calm, I'm with you..."

Choking after swallowing a mouthful, Jane finally grasped the words of her sister.

She let herself relax and soon could feel the sand at the bottom of the pond.

"The pond, we are in the pond..."

"And it saved your life," whispered Lizzie. "I just had to put into this water to save you. I had no proof nor clue but I knew it would save you..."

"Why was I dying?"

"I don't know the medical words but your brain was smothered by blood."

"And it's no longer being the case?"

Lizzie could only laugh at that remark.

"I don't know, I'm seeing your brain only in my dreams!"

Jane couldn't help but laugh with her sister.

"Sorry, it was a foolish remark."

"Not foolish, dear, but I really can't help you more than that. I woke up seeing me finding you dead in your bed and I just knew what I had to do to save you. And even if I can't explain how immersing you in this pond has saved you, it seems that it _had done_ it nevertheless."

Jane looked at them.

"Well, I hope you've brought a few clothes..."

"There are your night and dressing gown and we both have a cape..."

"We'll share the gowns and take a cape each," said Jane. "And I believe we should go home before anybody knows about our little escapade..."

Lizzie, while putting on her sister's dressing gown looked at her shoes...

"Heaven forbids, I forgot to bring shoes for you..."

Jane could only laugh at the real disappointment of her sister.

"You didn't really believe I'll be cured, didn't you, Lizzie? How are you going to convince anybody else if you don't believe it yourself?"

Lizzie stuck her tongue out at her sister.

"I'm really not going to try to convince anybody... That's for sure... And since you're so a smart ass, I won't give you my shoes after all!"

"Thank god," said Jane. "With you tiny feet it would have been a real torture to get to the house. I'll prefer a thousand times wet feet to crushed feet..."

"Than you'll get what you wish for, dear Jane! You'll be barefoot in the rain!"

"And it will be because of your absent mindedness that I'll get a cold!"

"No absentmindedness at all! Foresight that's what it is. With the doctor coming in the middle of the night we'll better have something to show him or we'll lose what credit we've left with him!"

"Well" said Jane, who felt healthy like never before, "let's go... I'm sure I'll be there before you..."

"Dream on, sister, I've always been the best walker and runner!"

"You'll see..."

* * *

They arrived at the house dripping wet and tears of laughter in the eyes when they were welcomed by angry words.

"What are you thinking, Lizzie?" screeched their mother's voice. "Jane would be in no shape to go out even if we still had that awesome August weather , but with such a rain..."

"I was feeling much better and I longed to go out," interrupted Jane who know what sort of flood was coming. "And Lizzie accepted to come with me, just in case..."

Mrs. Bennet's anger immediately disappeared.

"Girls you are not reasonable! You could catch the death in no time..."

She looked at Jane's feet and shook her head.

"Go fetch the bath I ordered prepared for you when I saw you outside and then back to your beds, immediately..."

They looked at each other and immediately ran up the stairs like they hadn't done for years. They were laughing to tears when they arrived at Jane's room...

They would have been quite surprised had they witnessed the tender smile on her mother's face.

* * *

A few hours later the doctor was coming out of Jane's room a rather puzzled look on the face.

"No reason to be worried. It's not what you believed. It's even quite the contrary. She's not dying, she's cured..."

"Cured," said Fitzwilliam with a correct amazed look on the face. "How is that possible?"

"I misjudged the concussion's seriousness... I'm quite happy that I had, because I must confess that I was really thinking she was going to die. Never have I seen somebody be cured from such kind of injury. It often occurs that there are internal bleeding in the brain and at some point the blood seems to choke the brain into malfunction. And I know no doctor who can do anything to cure that sort of injury. I'm quite happy that it was only a very mild concussion..."

He sighed.

"It must have been the blood and the fact that such a frail woman was unconscious and did react to none of my stimuli who made me misjudge. I probably over reacted."

"And she's cured?"

"As of my latest examination she's quite healthy. No more vertigo or nausea. Reflexes are normal and she has no longer headaches. She's as new..."

This time Fitzwilliam could let himself show his relief.

"Well those are very good news, doctor! I'm sorry that I came disturb you for no reason."

"No, no," said the doctor. "I was rather relieved when you didn't announce that she was no longer conscious. Had you found her in that state nothing and nobody could have saved her."

_Nobody? _thought Fitzwilliam_. There you're perhaps right but as of _nothing_, that's another matter._..

"And now, you're sure she's alright?"

"Never seen her in better health, even the scar has almost completely disappeared. I was much too worried when I first saw her. You must pardon me but even after she came back to consciousness I was quite persuaded that it was only a momentary remiss and that, some night, she would never awake... I should have spoken to you but that news is never welcome and, as you see, there's always hope..."

"I've seen doctor and I'm glad you were wrong."

"Not more than I am, not more than I am!"

* * *

It is said that old habit die slowly...

Some more slowly than others.

He found his wife soundly asleep in her sister's arms.

This night he slept in his old bachelor bed. And he was happy to be able to consider that it was the worst that had happened during that night...


	36. Pemberley Tensions

The tensions are growing in the household...

* * *

**Chapter thirty six: Pemberley tensions**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley. Thursday the third September. **

* * *

"It's just not done..."

Mrs. Reynolds voice was adamant. He knew he wouldn't get her to accept his decision.

"We need to be in London as soon as possible..." tried Fitzwilliam.

"With what came down these last days every stream has ambitions of looking like a torrent. Your carriage will move like a snake. Better to await Monday. Monday the conditions will be much better."

"We could move today," said Fitzwilliam in his coldest Darcy voice.

Which did nothing to smooth Mrs. Reynolds unhappiness with his decision.

"You could, Sir. Shall I give orders?"

Elizabeth decided that it was time to place herself between the front.

"Monday would arrange everybody, dear. And even if Jane is much better, two days more to rest would be a great help for her well being."

Mrs. Reynolds shot him a victorious glance, nodded briefly and went out of the study straight and imperial.

As soon as the door was shut Elizabeth took the floor.

"You would have lost even if I wouldn't have given her that last advantage. It would just have been longer and uglier..."

"I'm the Master of Pemberley," grumbled Fitzwilliam. "One should believe my word is law!"

"And it is, dear, it is..." smiled Elizabeth. "Just take care to ascertain you that the females of the estate agree with your project..." She came nearer and smuggled herself in his arms.

"And it really is a better idea to move on Monday. We have all a great deal of things to do. Even you have not yet properly thanked all your retainers who helped you to get us out of these ruffians hands. You should organize something for tomorrow after the office. They would be very proud if we four could thank them... And they would be very relieved to see that their blunder with the fire fight has had no serious consequences. They looked as if they were feeling _very_ guilty..."

He sighed and kissed her.

"You're right. Going too fast would be an error. We will stay till everything that needs to be done is done! If Jane wants to hurry she could go with your father. He..."

"Will go with us..." finished Elizabeth. "We all prefer to stay together, especially now that this Lebrun fellow is in London and has taken over the affairs."

Fitzwilliam nodded and hugged her.

"Yes, I forgot these last '_good_' news. What said Jane about the man?"

Elizabeth and Jane had, this very morning spent two hours speaking about the last London news they have gotten for breakfast.

It seemed that general Duroc took great care to send a courier as often as needed in order to get Jane as good informed as possible.

And within today's news was a little excerpt speaking of Lebrun's taking over of British affairs while d'Arcy was not able to do his duty.

"Geoffrey doesn't like him. He's the Corsican's pawn in the French Government and has received his present assignment because he's loyal enough to never contradict his Master. He's well liked by the French people who know him and trusted by other members or the Government. He's at his place for two reasons: he is the First Consul's guarantee that never anything happens that he doesn't want to and he is one of the best specialist of public finances in France..."

Fitzwilliam sighed.

What man could accept to be another man's pawn? Not that this choice has had any bad effect for him. He was number Three in France's Government, after all. Which, since d'Arcy's annexation of England made him the Third most powerful man in Europe.

Not bad for a man whose greatest strength was his loyalty to another man who, and it spoke for both, has rewarded said loyalty with rather more than a trinket.

He knew of men who had chosen a worst fate...

"I'm worried about what is happening in London," said Fitzwilliam. "Without d'Arcy everything is possible."

Lizzie looked her husband in the eyes.

"And what would you like to do to intervene if '_everything_' should happen?"

He frowned and she could see his suspicions.

"I will not be taking foolish risks, I promise. But we could perhaps speak to this man and try to influence him..."

It was Elizabeth's turn to frown.

"Influence? As in manipulate?"

Fitzwilliam looked toward the sky.

"Of course not! I'm not like my French brother. For me influence is more like convince..."

Elizabeth nodded and her eyes were sparkling.

"Of course not! And I'm quite sure that you're not like your French brother. You wouldn't have asked me to be your second wife just after having seen me for the first time..."

Fitzwilliam became white as a linen...

"He did what?"

She laughed at his shock and outrage. He was even more handsome than usually when angered.

"I was already engaged, dear! He had no chance to _convince_ me since you had already done what was needed to secure my love!"

He could only shook his head.

"The gut of this man... I hope your sister never hears of his scandalous behavior..."

Lizzie laughed out loudly.

"She was just beside me when he proposed, and she was not even shocked."

She loved it when he frowned at her like that.

"She knew he was joking?"

She shook her head.

"She knew I was in love with you and that was enough to convince her that she had not to fear my accepting his offer."

His frown increased.

"Had you not loved me, would you have accepted?"

She shrugged.

"We will never know dear since I was, when he asked, madly in love with my own Darcy." She winked at him. "But I must admit that, since his words came just after I tried to beat the crap out of him, his proposition was the best compliment a man had thrown my way in my whole life..."

His eyes became very dark as usual when jealousy clouded his judgment.

"Your whole life?"

She nodded while hugging him.

"In words it surely was. But then words are only that: words. I got much better in another much surer currency: I got facts! So I can pretend that the only greater compliment I ever got was when a rather haughty and shy young man overcame his prejudices, his fears and his rightful ire for the woman who had harshly refused his first proposition, to ask me to become his wife for the second time. _That_ was the height of my life!"

His eyes returned to their normal color and he hugged her back.

"What would have become of me without you?"

Her whole face became a picture of mirth and mischief.

"Lady Catherine's son in law?"

He kissed her to hide a shiver.

Because she was probably right.

* * *

"Do you have any idea where they went?"

Mrs. Bennet looked at her husband with a frown.

Since Jane was recovered her husband was more than strange.

"What is it, Edward? Why are you so freaked out?"

He shook his head way too vehemently.

"I'm not freaked out, I'm worried..."

Mrs. Bennet stood up and went to her pacing husband.

"Worried about what, dear? She's recovered, healed, cured! She no longer shows any symptom of having ever have been ill. Why would you be worried after we got her back?"

He sat on their bed and invited her to sit next to him. He looked he in the eyes.

"Promise me not to think that I'm crazy..."

"What in Heav..."

"Just promise, dear. It's important."

She shook her head and made a face but promised nevertheless.

"Well," said Mr. Bennet. "Jane should be dead by now..."

Mrs. Bennet found herself speechless. The only thing she thought about was the only thing she couldn't say since she just promised not to.

Her husband went on.

"You must understand that I've seen quite a lot soldiers with head wounds in my former life as an officer of His Majesty. And I have seen quite a few with exactly the same symptoms as our Jane. And only a few survived. And only after a long and difficult period of healing. Never before have I seen one recovering within a few days..."

Mrs. Bennet shrugged.

"So you were wrong? I'm quite satisfied that you were, dear! Jane was just lightly injured and she came out of it! No surprise if I say that I'm very very glad that it was not as dangerous as we first thought..."

"But it was, _it was_!" shouted Mr. Bennet. "It was already a minor miracle that she came back to conscience but her headaches were very bad omens..."

Mrs. Bennet took her husband's hands in her.

"She got her skull crashed by a bullet, Mr. Bennet. If that's not reason enough for you to have the right to suffer a headache, then I'm asking you: 'what is?' Just accept the fact that you were wrong in your diagnosis and that our daughter got out of that ordeal better than you thought. If really she was dying what do you believe was done by Lizzie to save her?"

Mr. Bennet shook his head showing more uncertainty than confidence.

"I don't know, dear, I don't know. The only thing I know is that she should no longer be alive..."

Mrs. Bennet exhaled heavily and stood up while taking her husband's hand. She pulled him up and dragged him to the door.

"Let's ask our daughters, they will show you that your worries are unfounded."

* * *

Jane looked at her father's worried mien and made a face.

What could she do? Lie? Say the truth? What would be more unbelievable? Probably the truth... But then it had never been her habit to lie to her parents.

Sometimes she remained silent when a confession would have been the honorable thing to do, yes! But one thing was sure she had never lied to them...

She took a deep and long breath and passed her tongue on her lips.

"I'd like Lizzie to be present, Papa..." said she finally. "There's a part only she can tell because only she and Fitzwilliam have lived it through."

Mr. Bennet's frown deepened.

"Why is it so? Where were you?"

Jane sighed. It would not be now she began to lie to them. She looked at her feet.

"I was unconscious..." whispered she.

Mr. Bennet shot a victorious glance toward his wife and pointed to the door.

"I really would like to hear the story told directly by Lizzie, then, let's go find her..."

* * *

What had always been Jane weakness was her inability to lie without sending a loud signal to everyone attending. And to look so awfully guilty when she was pushed into doing it...

And now her face was exactly as those few days in her life where she was pushed into bending the truth.

Lizzie was immediately at her side and her frown was very accusing.

"Don't use that look on us, Lizzie," warned Mrs. Bennet. "We did nothing, we just asked a few questions..."

"You bullied her," countered Lizzie. "Just as you did in old days when nobody else would say the truth! She just survived an awful ordeal and you find nothing to do than torment her to get her to answer your questions..."

"Stop that immediately, Elizabeth Darcy! We didn't 'torment' our daughter and we didn't bully her. Your father was worried about a miraculous healing he believed having been witness to and I convinced him to ask those who knew everything about it."

That shut Elizabeth rather abruptly up.

So much for what she and Jane had hoped to keep a secret.

She looked around them and pointed toward the garden.

"It's not raining, I believe we should make use of the opportunity and go out and have a little walk."

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet looked at each other. Indeed if Elizabeth, who never ever had had scruples to speak before the domesticity choose to run out before speaking there was really something.

"Alright," said Mr. Bennet. "Let's go..."

* * *

"I had a dream last night..." began Lizzie when she was sure nobody could overhear her. "I saw myself finding Jane's dead body in the morning when I would go to look after her... I awoke and I ran to her room and I found her unconscious. Still alive but unconscious." Some tears appeared in her eyes. "I was desperate and I cried for help and I _immediately _got an answer. I knew what to do to save her! I just knew!" She looked at her father with iron in her eyes. "And I did it and believe it or not, it involves no sorcery!" Her face became a mask of unadulterated will. "I won't say a word more about what happened that night... It's a Pemberley secret I'm not allowed to disclose. But _it_ saved Jane's life that's for sure."

Mr. Bennet exhaled lengthily and walked to his daughters and took them into his arms.

"I'm sorry if I pushed you but I had to know. I couldn't have lived with a doubt in my heart." His jaws clenched and his eyes became the same iron Lizzie used a few minutes ago. "There will be no other witch in my family!"

Lizzie hugged his father and whispered in his hears.

"You know what I think of all that crap. She was no witch, Papa. She was just a victim of jealous neighbors."

Her father sighed.

"But she could do things... She could..." whispered he back. "I saw her do them..."

"She had knowledge, that's all," said Jane. "So do I in midwifery and that's reason enough for some to call _me_ a witch." She looked at her father who had shown no surprise.

"So you knew as I suspected."

"Indeed I knew. It's even me who asked the midwife to take you under her wing. I wanted you to have something important to occupy that fine mind of yours. You wouldn't believe it but you –_a lot_– and Lydia –_a little less_– look like very much like my mom. And you were so smart playing the dumb little beauty in front of strangers. And all this just to save the family from my incompetence..."

He stopped her before she could protest.

"That's exactly what you were doing, dear, don't dare to deny it... So I had to find you something more interesting to do to hone that fine little intellect you were so skilled hiding."

The tears in his eyes were finally released.

"And then you came back with that head wound I knew would take you away from us..." He shook his head while hugged by his daughters and his wife. "And I was shattered and desperate. I could not stop to think about your coming death and it was driving me crazy. Crazy to the point that I began to ask myself what she –_as a witch_– could probably have done to save you..."

He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his cheeks.

"And then you mother told me that she saw you coming back, both alive, from outside and both more than scarcely dressed. I could not not think about her... And I began to fear that, perhaps, I had fed the snake while watching over the turtledove."

Lizzie and Jane looked each other in the eyes. Never had they witnessed their father's tears before. And in some twisted way it was like deliverance for them. Now they knew that he trusted them enough to show himself as he really was.

"I'm no witch!" hammered Lizzie. "And I'm very upset to hear you call me a snake..."

He smiled at her attempt at humor.

"Sorry dear, I didn't..."


	37. Pemberley Preparations

The journey south is approaching...

* * *

**Chapter thirty seven: Pemberley preparations**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley. Friday the fourth September. **

* * *

"You've seen? They were so happy to see that Jane was well and walking..."

Fitzwilliam kissed the top of her head and went on walking along the path rounding Pemberley lake.

"And she's quite a natural talent when it comes to make people relax and enjoy being together," said he while hugging his wife nearer to him.

"I always wondered why you didn't fall in love with her... She so much more beautiful than I am..."

He smiled at her candor.

"I was not searching dear and Charles' first words were enough to push me forever out of her orbit."

She walked around him to stand before him.

"What did he say, what did he say?"

"He whispered it, so I do believe he was not aware that I was listening. Perhaps I should let discretion prevail..."

She was immediately against him with her fists on his chests.

"I'll beat you if you don't speak..."

He grabbed her and made her squeak while turning her around as if they were waltzing.

"You won't be able to," said he while laughing.

"You won't be able to turn me like that for long," countered she while roaring with laughter.

"What would you bet?"

"A kiss if I win and nothing if I lose since we would only turn and turn and turn..."

He stopped immediately and paid his due.

"'My, there's an Angel waiting for me'..." whispered Fitzwilliam while holding himself and his wife together... "That's what he said when we entered and he was looking at her, there was no doubt for me..."

He snorted.

"And I was even happy since his choice left me with only the plain ones..."

He was immediately hit by her purse.

"So you confirm, you monster, you find me plain!"

"No longer, I swear!" said he while dodging and laughing. "Then, I was too far away to have seen your eyes... It's them who give you your unique beauty..."

That last remark got him a remiss from her beating.

"You're very lucky that your last remark had been confirmed dozens of times since then. I will accept that my eyes did play a role in my bewitching you."

"Then came your wit, your humor, your love for the country life..."

She raised an eyebrow at his last statement.

"My love for country life? You really find that important?"

"Indeed, Lizzie, more than important. I'm a man of the country. I love it to be outside riding and galloping. It was my nightmare to be forced to marry a woman who would only live for the season and balls and theater and parties. I love books and plays as every other man, but staying in London more than a month or two is for me a real torture. Seeing you walking outside and even running..."

"You saw me running?"

"I stalked you quite a few hours before finding the courage to come near you and court you..."

"What you call courting was nothing more than silently walking at my side..."

"I was at your side! Never before had I brought myself to walk side by side with another lady..."

She shook her head.

"How should I have known that you were giving me the highest of compliments, Fitzwilliam? I did not know you from before. For me you were the strangest man I ever met..."

"Only strange?"

"Weird?"

He made a face and his spine went straight up to the sky.

"And handsome..." said she quickly. He relaxed slightly but she knew him well enough to see that he was careful not to relax. "But I must say that these walks were the weirdest I ever did. You, silent and smiling, walking by my side and I absolutely unable to understand why, thinking me plain and uninteresting, you insisted to come with me..." She laughed. "I must have decided to shut down my brain to be so insensible..."

He laughed and put his arm around her waist.

"And I was certain that you basked in my presence. That not only you knew why I was at your side but that it explained your silence so overwhelmed were you to feel my interest..."

They laughed together.

"We were fools, my love... Imagine what a word of you could have brought out..."

Lizzie's eyes sparkled.

"I do imagine that we would have ended dealing blows in the woods... What a scandal it would have been..."

"I would never have hurt you... Not physically, I mean. For these other hurts I humbly ask for forgiveness."

"I did it the day you invited me and aunt and uncle Gardiner to be guests at Pemberley. That very day I knew that I would give everything to hear your proposal another time..." She took his hand and kissed it. "Not that I did not hurt you myself a few days later... I believe we were quits after my refusal... We were both hurt and bloodied."

She shook her head and looked at Pemberley.

"You know, now that I think of it and when I recall the few domestic rows I witnessed at home, I'm quite certain that we had this day in April our first domestic row. You already knew that you loved me and I would only discover it next day but in essence it was just that!"

She took his hands and began to turn around him, her eyes full and mischief and dancing lights.

"We are not very far away from a certain pond, dear... And last time I invited you to wade in it with me you refused... Would you dare to do it again?"

He answered by pulling her in just the right direction.

* * *

"You were right, this pond's temperature is just perfect. Not too hot and fresh enough to give you the weirdest thoughts..."

They were lying, arm in arm, in the pond that, probably only for them, had managed to create a little sandy beach where they could cuddle in each other's arms.

"Weird as in loving weird?" asked she.

"Weird as in passionate weird" answered he.

"Strange that, I do believe these senses of 'weird' have ultimately the same meaning."

He kissed her on the top of the nose.

"You sure?"

"Only one way to know. First we do passionate weird and immediately after we do loving weird... And then we compare..."

"And after that we do passionately loving weird..." whispered he while beginning passionate weird.

She giggled and turned around to give him better accesses.

"We'll see what you'll be able to..."

"That and more," breathed he in her ears. "You'll see..."

He was true to his promise.

* * *

Later as they were walking home Lizzie was touched by a late regret.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have done it..."

Fitzwilliam frowned in his _'what are you talking of'_ way.

"Which one do you mean? Passionate, Loving, Passionate loving or..."

"All of them," whispered she. "That pond saved my sister's life and we just jump into it to make love... We should perhaps have shown more respect."

He nodded but regretted nothing.

"We were not the first if I remember well. And they did it before she was healed. So there is one certain thing: doing it in the pond doesn't reduce the pond to a simple water reserve..."

He stopped, put his arm around her waist and made her turn with him.

They were looking at what, from where they were looked as a simple part of the forest enclosed in the Pemberley Estate.

"You know, I looked up the family chronicles and I was very surprised to find an allusion to 'The Grove' in the very first of our family books. It's written in Latin and the first English Darcy, at this time probably still a d'Arcy I suppose, described why he chose to settle here near the Peaks... He came because he fell in love with a local Lady he encountered at a pond circled by very old oak trees... He was injured and probably dying when he stumbled over her... Next thing he remembered was being alive and healing under her loving care..."

He smiled at his wife.

"From what he says about her she must have looked very much like Jane..."

He made a face, half smile, half perplexity...

"Strange, isn't it..."

"That he fell in love with Jane? Not in the least..."

He pulled her against him and kissed her.

"Don't play dumb, dear! Strange that that pond had played a role in my family's being here..."

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Not strange at all, dear. Had I found a pond who could cure fatal injuries I would have done everything in my power to stay near it... Wouldn't you?"

Fitzwilliam nodded while hugging his wife.

"He did everything," said Fitzwilliam. "He married her and since she was no member of any aristocracy he angered his friend William who happened to have just the perfect wife in mind for him. And so it was written that the Darcy dukedom was wasted in the arms of a common lass."

She hugged him and their eyes met.

"Not wasted at all," said she. "What came out of that union is worth much more than a Dukedom." Her smile grew.

"A Kingdom perhaps?"

"I have not yet accepted..."

She nodded and entangled herself out of his arms.

"The key word is 'yet', dear..." she said just before looking at the bright September sun. "Let's go home everybody will be waiting... We were gone for quite a long time. Lunch is probably ready..."

"Indeed," said he. "And I don't regret a second of the time I spend with you..."

"Neither does I, dear, neither does I..."

* * *

Jane was dreaming of her d'Arcy...

While waiting on the Master and Mistress' return from their walk she had chosen a comfortable armchair in the library and soon had dozed off.

And immediately he has been with her.

She smiled at him while he hovered over her.

And then the time passed in a wink. He there, looking at her. She dreaming of him. There was no word exchanged but they knew each other's presence and it was enough.

"Jane," said a voice. "They are coming... Finally!"

She opened her eyes and saw Kitty standing over her.

She smiled at her sister.

"I warned you, remember? When Fitzwilliam and Lizzie go for a walk in the general direction of the forest there is a real risk for that walk to be delayed..."

"Indeed you said it, but it's long past lunch time! They could have thought of us!"

"They could but it was not very likely. There are circumstances when time takes its own turn with people..."

Kitty made a face.

"And in the forest it's even more liable to be the case, isn't it?"

Jane nodded.

"It is, dear, it is..." She hold her hand out to her little sister. "Help me up, please, I'm rather stiff. We wouldn't want to delay the meal even more, would we?"

Kitty helped her and they both hurried to the dining room.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Jane looked up from the books she was trying to decipher. She looked at the door to be sure that it was closed.

"I'm looking for information about the grove, Lizzie. I'm sure that there must be legends about it. It's impossible that nothing never slipped out..."

"How's your Latin," asked Lizzie.

"Rusty but probably still able to get me through Caesar or Tacitus..." answered Jane.

"Then I have perhaps something that's going to interest you. Wait a moment... It's not stored here but in the Master's Library."

"You should ask Fitzwilliam then," called Jane after her.

"No need, I already asked..."

Five minutes later she was back carrying a volume in folio size...

She put it on the piece of furniture that had been designed to hold books of that size.

She opened it at a page marked by a red ribbon.

"Here, look at this and enjoy."

Jane stood up and crossed the room to be at her sister's side.

"Why enjoy?"

Elizabeth smiled and beckoned her to go on.

"You like love stories, don't you? Then you should be quite satisfied..."

A few minutes later she looked up.

"Did you know that the first English d'Arcy was named Gottfried?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"You know my Latin, dear. If I were to read this book without your help, it would take me years..."

Jane Looked up and seemed surprised.

"Sorry I didn't fathom that you hadn't already read it. If you wish I'll translate..."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded.

"Indeed, I do wish, if you're accordant that is..."

Jane agreed and went back to her deciphering.

"I'm Gottfried d'Arcy, second son of Wilhem late Count of Arques and brother to Gautier, Viscount d'Arcy and Knight of Sankt Albinus. I'm the first Norman possessor of the Estate of Painperley and last heir to Arques who went to my cousin. I have decided to write down the story of my family from the beginning of our installation in present country. I came ashore with my cousin Wilhem, Duke of Normandy on..."

* * *

"...But for her I would be dead. She's an Angel come to Earth and her hair is..."

She stopped and read it only for herself!

_As if gold and sun rays had married to beget them_.

"Her hair?" asked Lizzie.

"Sorry," said Jane. "It's just that this Gottfried used almost the same terms while speaking of her hair than Geoffrey when speaking of mine... It's weird..."

"As in passionately weird?" asked Lizzie with a big smile.

"Sorry?" said Jane looking up. "I'm not sure I understood your question."

Elizabeth shook her head and looked contrite.

"I'm sorry, dear. It's a joke you couldn't understand since it's a word play between Fitzwilliam and me. We spoke of weird things this morning..."

"You mean you _did_ weird things, didn't you?"

"It's not for me to answer such indiscreet questions, sister dear. But if you want to see Fitzwilliam blush bright red just speak of 'passionate weird' in front of him. You'll be surprised!"

"Of course I won't ever do such a thing now that I know it would bother him!" said Jane. "You shouldn't risk putting him in such awkward situation. What if I had done just what you invited me to do?"

"What of?" teased Lizzie. "First: I know that you're a loving and compassionate creature who would never take the risk to embarrass anybody. Second: I'm quite sure that it would do my husband a lot of good to be, from time to time, teased by somebody else but me. He's way too stiff!"

Jane couldn't help but smile at her sister's antics.

"Be careful, he's a very kind man, you should be careful not to anger him..."

"Are you careful with your own d'Arcy?"

"Of course I am! He's a very del..." she stopped and blushed.

Lizzie raised her eyebrows playfully.

"Were you going to call Geoffrey d'Arcy delicate?"

"Deliberate," said Jane blushing even more as she usually did when trying to lie. "I was going to say that he is a very deliberate man! That's what I was going to say..."

"Indeed," teased Lizzie. "And is there a reason to cut deliberate after the first syllable while blushing madly? I don't see any! But it does rhyme with delicate, doesn't it?"

"It does but then a lot of words rhyme with deliberate! I don't see why you..."

"Let's go back to Gottfried and the way he describes your hair... Sorry her hair..."

"Stop teasing Lizzie or I'll quit just here..."

"I already said that I'm sorry, dear... I just couldn't resist. Imagine someone calling Geof..."

"Lizzie!"

"Oh, sorry, I am all ears!"


	38. London Strategies

And meanwhile in far, far London...

* * *

**Chapter thirty eight: London strategies**

* * *

**London. Saturday the fifth September. **

* * *

Charles François Lebrun, Third Consul of the Mighty French Republic sighed while looking on the perfectly smooth English Garden of the Proconsuls Palace.

_Consul's Palace for a few days more_... thought Lebrun. _How many years ago was I there looking up and wondering what could be France with a real Parliament and a King who would accept to share its power? My, my, I'm an old man now but, even if it is only for a few days, I'm the ruler of the only country whose political system I have ever admired_...

He turned and glanced at the files he was working on.

Clearly, there was not much to do since d'Arcy was a very thorough man and a stickler for details.

But there always were decisions to make and he was here to make them.

He looked at the clock and smiled.

_One minute before Duroc_...

He was arriving at 55 in his mind when he knocked.

"Come in Duroc, come in..."

Each morning at precisely eight o'clock Duroc would come to give his Master his reports.

And in the absence of Napoleon or d'Arcy, said Master was one Charles François Lebrun.

The salute was perfect, the uniform flamboyant and the mien serious.

Business as usual.

"How's England this morning?"

Duroc, who was in his own right a stickler for exactitude frowned.

"This morning, I don't know! Including the time lag to bring news here, while we wait for the completion of the three Chappe lines, I can describe you the situation of our various départements at various times these last two days..."

Lebrun smiled at his subordinate's love for precision.

"Just give me a general overview," said Lebrun while inviting the general to sit. "It will be enough..."

Duroc sat and opened his file.

"London as of two o'clock this last night," began Duroc. "The Gendarmerie is pleased to announce that two burglar bands had this very night been apprehended. Thirty eight thieves and burglars are at this precise moment in custody. Two ware houses with stolen goods have been secured and the interrogations are under way. General Jamieson, the head of the Gendarmerie fears that he will not be able to apprehend the master mind behind these two bands because none of his employees has seen him. But he promised me to go on searching for him..."

Lebrun waited till Duroc looked up before asking his question.

"Jamieson? A local?"

"He was the third in rank of the London constabulary. His superiors were two Lords who never even put a foot at the constabulary. The Proconsul was able convince him to continue his work for us... He had a few very fitting conditions and he is now the local general of the Gendarmerie. His confirmation is pending in Paris." Duroc nodded to show his agreement. "Very good professional. Within a week of his nomination and the hiring of the new Gendarmes he did an excellent job. London has never been so secure and safe than under our rule. People are very satisfied with that aspect of our policy."

Lebrun frowned.

"And with which aspect are they not satisfied?"

"The roadworks are not easily accepted. People do understand that a city like London needs a sewer system and cobbled streets but when there's a big hole in front of your shop, the understanding ends with the decrease of your income... And then there are the expropriations..." He snorted. "Never an easy thing to get people to accept expropriations..."

"What for?"

"The proconsul wants East End to be..." he hesitated. "How could we say? Sanitized? Cleaned? Most of the people living there are poor people who are more often than not, living very scarcely out of petty jobs and even more often petty thievery. It's the pit of London and a reservoir for all those who look for cheap workers and goons to do their bidding. While there is such an area, London will never be secure. So it has to be erased but we must be very careful not to just displace the problem. People who quit East End must have new perspectives or everything would be for nothing."

Lebrun was interested. Paris had the same problems and good solutions were always welcome.

"How will you proceed,"

Duroc went on.

"The Company has begun to build in the South of London, east of Greenland Dock and west of the Kent Road two new districts that will accommodate houses and factories. Mr. Gardiner has promised that most of the workers will be hired in East End. Company workers will be granted a house or a flat whose size will depend on the family's size. The house will be a part of the wage paid to the workers. The Company will procure shops and schools and public services available at low prices for the inhabitants of the districts. We believe that most of the East End people are honorable people who will take the chance to live an honest worker's life."

Duroc's smile became feral.

"The others are Jamieson's game and soon to be shipped to Louisiana's swamps!"

Lebrun immediately saw the business opportunity.

"What will become of the East End district?"

Duroc could answer without an hesitation.

"Since monsieur d'Arcy doesn't want to see people from outside of London replacing the old population, his plan is to raze the whole area to build a new business and housing district. All the factories will be closed and displaced to the East. The whole area being public property, the town will lease the ground to the businesses for ninety nine years at the end of that period the property of the buildings will reverse to the town. The best situated part of the district will be sold to private owners to build private houses and buildings for rent. Everything should be done within three years and as of yesterday, we are on schedule!"

Duroc made a grimace.

"Since a lot of the East End owners are "unknown" or very discreet, the Proconsul's services have difficulty to find them to arrange the sale. But that will not stop us since they have three months to be registered. The first November those who are still unknown or silent will be considered to have accepted the expropriation price. But even unknown, some of them are still stirring up public unrest to try to stop that endeavor. So it is one of Jamieson's foremost duties to get those unrest mongers as quickly as possible. And he has already caught quite a few of those. He's still looking for the others and I have already chosen the swampest swampy swamp of Louisiana to accommodate these fine people..."

That last comment brought a laugh out of Lebrun. Duroc was a fanatical Republican and a very decided soldier but he had a fiery hatred for all those who where using other people only out of greed. He was sure that that swamp was really swampy!

"Well that's a real program there. How long till the end of the road work?"

"Two years as a whole. The work gangs are now working near the Thames and are moving North and South. In two years from now, delays not included, the whole London town should have the most modern sewer system of the world. We are even building the sever system on two levels to give us the possibility, when it will be available to include pipes for gas and drinking water..."

Lebrun smiled at his General.

"Seems you involve yourself quite a lot in this project, general..."

He was rewarded with a genuine happy smile.

"Changes from razing cities, Sir! I like to believe that what we are doing will mark this town for the centuries to come. And we have a certain amount of slack we wouldn't have in Paris for instance. Being the invaders has a few advantages..."

Lebrun nodded.

_Indeed it has_...

"Now that we have seen the situation in London, how's the rest of England?"

"Overall, calm," answered Duroc. "We believe we have our first resistance nest located in Cornwall."

Lebrun frowned.

"And what are we going to do about it?"

Duroc looked at him and for a few second seemed upset.

"The orders are to do nothing and to let them increase... The Proconsul tried to explain it to me but I must admit that I'm more than flabbergasted with his reasoning. If I'm authorized to make a summary I'd say: 'let them grow under our surveillance and bother the civilians with their demands...'. If you know what to understand, you're smarter than me..."

Lebrun laughed.

"Nothing to do with being smart. Everything to do with being a devious bastard." He laughed again. "Indeed we will do as he ordered. Let them increase and do nothing but contain them..."

"Contain, Sir?" asked Duroc.

"As in containment, General," answered Lebrun. "I mean let the reinforcements in but let nobody out to strike at us!"

"All the reinforcements? But they will soon be an important force, Sir. We'll have an army against us..."

Lebrun raised his eyebrows.

"And? Do you really believe that such an army would pose your soldiers problems? Especially if you are there in number?"

Duroc shook his head.

"Of course not, it would even be a bloodbath, they would be better staying..." He stopped talking and his eyes opened wide.

Lebrun nodded with a knowing smile on his lips.

"Indeed, general they would be better to stay in little groups harassing us. But if we let them concentrate they will lose their only advantage against us and become lambs for the butcher..."

He made an appreciative gesture.

"Indeed, you follow you orders and you do what is necessary to give them the impression that we are letting them take root where they are. And let even a few rumors run that a great army is gathering where ever these freedom fighters are gathering. The more who join, the more we will be able to crush when they strike."

He stood up and walked to the map that was on the far side of the desk.

"Where?"

"Here, Sir. In Radnor. They have been sighted by one of our cavalry scouting party. Looks like a woodcutter camp but they are around a hundred and they have rifles. Even with wolves in the vicinity there's no reason to be armed with rifles."

"Easy to defend?"

"Not if we want to take them out," answered Duroc. "If we are dumb we could send little parties against them and lose a lot a men. But if I can come with ten time their number, I'll just crush them."

He sighed and bit his lips.

"That's also a reason why I'd like to strike now. When they are a thousand, it will be much more difficult to get at them..."

Lebrun patted his general on the shoulder.

"Think general, think. Look at the map. What sort of terrain do we have, here?"

"Hills, and meadows... A few scattered villages... Two little towns... Poor country all in all."

Lebrun nodded.

"Poor country indeed. And now you put thousand, two thousand, three thousand more people in these hills. What's going to happen _if_ you make sure that those who want to go out are caught?"

"They'll have a real problem with finding food..."

Lebrun laughed at his general's ingenuity.

"You're still out of the real interesting part of the plan, general. Believe me, three thousand armed freedom fighters will find food! If necessary they will take the food where it is..."

This time the whole of d'Arcy's plan appeared him.

"They'll rob their own citizens..."

"They will have no choice if you are able to close all resupplying."

Duroc frowned.

"But why let them in? They bring supplies with them..."

"And weapons, and clothes, and ammunition. How much can a walking man carry general?"

This time Duroc smiled.

"Enough to feed himself for a few days."

"Or a few soldiers for a lot less days..." added Lebrun. "That's why the more can get in, the less time they will have before having to come out to fight us as an army..." He smiled at the map. "And when they come out they will be more hated then any stranger..."

He laughed once more.

"Yes, indeed, that's a master plan... And I'm sure he has even included the leadership problem in his calculations..."

This time Duroc was on the right track immediately.

"Indeed they will have quite a few different leaders to make decisions..." he shook his head. "Man, this will be a real mess. At no price would I want to be there with them..."

He sat back at the desk and smiled at Duroc.

These were indeed good news and reason enough to be satisfied.

"What else is happening in England?"

"A great deal, but nothing that should make us nervous. As ordered we have established border control at the Scottish and Welsh frontiers. Everything was already in the general vicinity. We needed only to move men and material a few miles toward the border. In a few days there should be no doubt in any mind that England and these neighbors are different countries..."

"Why such a haste?"

Duroc smiled at his Consul.

"I asked the same question and got a smile for an answer. Since I insisted the proconsul accepted to explain. He wants them aware that what happened was carefully planned and that he got what he knew he would get from the beginning. They will be upset but they will also know who was doing the thinking..."

"Isn't that against our interests? Why show them that we are able to think them out?"

Duroc laughed.

"You follow the same way I did, Sir. And his answer was, in one sense, quite disturbing..."

"What did he say?"

"He said that since he would not be here more than a few months it would only help to strengthen his image and would certainly not undermine his follower's authority since the culprit would be on the other side of the Atlantic ocean..."

"Indeed, seen in this light it would only serve him and not be of disservice to the Republic..."

He nodded and wrote a few sentences on his note book.

D'Arcy was working for himself but that was not really a surprise. Not after his small gold robbery! But he was also doing a great job in the service of the Republic. Of course not having got his share on said gold was upsetting but then he had conquered one of the most advanced European countries without laying it bare. The infrastructure was intact and the factories ready to continue to produce for the Republic. That was, in the long term and if one looked only at the interests of France, it was even better. Northern Italy would take dozens of years to come out of the depression which had followed Napoleon's armies' passage.

Well some could say that since Northern Italy had never been a developed modern country it had no real importance, but Lebrun as the French specialist for public Finances was very well aware that a destroyed infrastructure had, at a moment or at another, to be rebuilt. And this rebuilding would cost lots of tax money...

Alright, tax moneys did not come out of the rulers pockets but that was a very narrow minded way of thinking if one wanted to be a States man. But then not having the means of one's strategy was not very fruitful if you were an ambitious man. So it has often happened that famous generals took some liberties with the state's money...

As it was very clear in Napoleon's and d'Arcy cases...

Lebrun smothered a snicker.

Could France afford two ambitious generals?

If d'Arcy went on conquering Countries without crushing their infrastructure, there was a real chance that there was a chance...

But could two ambitious generals afford to serve under the same flag?

That was a very different question.

He snapped out of his speculations and looked at Duroc.

"Could you give me a summary of the situation in England?"

Duroc nodded.

"The situation is calm and there are, as of now, no security problems. Nobody's attacking our men anywhere. We have a few problems with rogues who believe that the presence of a foreign army will give them impunity but these are, in most cases, quickly taken and jailed. Most will be en route for oversea in the days following their capture."

"The people?"

"Satisfied, Sir. There were no robberies and the only two rape cases were dealt with personally by the proconsul."

Duroc smiled. He had had reports about those two rapists. He could understand that such a fate would deter other would-be rapist wearing the uniform of the Republic.

"The economy goes on as usual and with the Company hiring thousands of people in London and surroundings the situation was even better than before. Bread prices went up the first days but soon, with the first arrivals of French flour the prices toppled to a never seen minimum. It was a very welcomed change in the population... We have a rather good reputation."

"We or d'Arcy?"

"D'Arcy is well loved by the populace even more so since the news of his marriage to an English young country lady. But that doesn't mean that the Republic is loathed on the other side. I would say that, for now, the people are glad with the way our soldiers and our police officers are behaving. It is particularly true in London where we have hired hundreds of new agents who know particularly well the streets and the difficult districts. Criminality is at a historic low in London and it will be better as soon as we have sanitized the East Side."

"Yes we spoke about... What about the highwaymen?"

"Our cavalry is sweeping the countryside, Sir. Since we have no armies to fight, d'Arcy has ordered that all cavalry divisions patrol the highways and destroy everything which could look like an armed force."

"Do we search for private weapons?"

"No, Sir. The Proconsul thinks it would needlessly upset the population since most of these weapons are hunting weapon that cannot shoot a big enough caliber to pass the men's armor. And he prefers those who want to fight us to try with hunting weapon and not weapons which could kill more of our men..."

"Good thinking, that..."

"The Proconsul does a lot of that..."

Lebrun frowned at the General.

"There are rumors that you are Napoleon's man, General! Would it be that you are d'Arcy's man?"

"I'm no one's man but mine, Sir. I admire both men and I will serve them as long as they serve France. If one of them ceases to serve France I'll do my duty and fight him. Meanwhile, I'm here and under the Proconsul's authority and I'll do what he orders..." He exchanged a hard look with the Consul. "And there is one thing that's sure, d'Arcy has shown, like the First Consul in Italy, that they know their business and that they are France's best assets."

A little smile came on Duroc's lips.

"And as a soldier, Sir, I must confess that I'm rather satisfied to know that France has two strategists that the world can only envy us..."

* * *

"How is he?"

"Still unconscious, Sir," answered the Chinese doctor with his funny accent. "But he is bettering."

_Indeed he is_, thought Lebrun without the least scruple to admit that the longer d'Arcy was out, the better it was for him.

"How long before he regains consciousness?"

"One, two, three days. Four at the most. Longer perhaps but not good. Loosing weight and strength. Better if he wakes today or tomorrow. Better for him and better for moral of troops. Lots coming asking about him. Not liking him unconscious! Bad faces..."

Lebrun only nodded. He could feel with the soldiers' fear about losing to an assassin the man who could bring victory without even launching a full scale battle.

"And his other injuries?"

"Healing very well! Most of broken bones already mending. Him not moving is very good for mending bones. He very healthy man. Lots of exercise every day. Body in perfect condition. If soon waking up, he walking in two weeks and running in a month." A smile came on the doctor's lips. "He young married. Wife not being happy with him for a few weeks. Too much different hurts everywhere to be able to do what husband does to wife..." he made a face. "That not good news for them but good news, he alive! Possible make up for it later... Could have been dead. At beginning I was not sure he willing to live. Energy in body was not flowing straight. Lots of stops. But now all is well energy flows like in healthy body. Soon be recovered..."

Lebrun nodded and turned to exit the room where d'Arcy was slowly recovering.

_Alright, he's conscious tomorrow or the day after. That's a long way from taking over. I'll probably have two weeks or even three or four. More than enough to convince everybody, even d'Arcy that I could be his perfect replacement. I'll just have to convince him. And Napoleon! I'm not sure which one will be the most difficult to convince. I'll see... I'll cross each bridge at the right time_.


	39. Maureen's Advice

The beginning of the journey to London...

* * *

**Chapter thirty nine: Pemberley London Trip Maureen's advice**

* * *

**London. Friday the fifth September. **

* * *

"Why must you ride?"

Elizabeth's voice was, in appearance, calm and level but Jane could feel that her sister was not really as relaxed as she showed it.

"I need to be with the escort as much as possible," answered Fitzwilliam while preparing his saddle. "I'm a good rider you know, it won't be a strain on me, I've done it often enough."

"I would have liked you to be with me…"

He smiled at her and kissed her hand.

"Believe me; you just don't want to be in the same carriage as I when I'm in an upset and worried mood. Even your love for me would be strained to its limits." He smiled at Jane who was standing with the rest of the family.

"You'll have your sister with you, I'm sure you'll have a lot to speak about." He sighed and looked her in the eyes. "And I need to do something. Sitting for three days just looking out at the country side will only drive me crazy." He shook his head. "I'm not an easy traveler, dear. I fret, I grumble and I worry… And with what is happening in London I'm even more worried than normally…"

Elizabeth hugged her husband.

"You'll come if I need you?"

"Just call and I'll be at your side for the time you need me…"

* * *

"I was hoping on you to cheer me up…"

Elizabeth answered with a small smile.

"Sorry, dear. I'm just not very happy that he chose to ride. I would have liked him to be with me."

"I can understand that he wants to do something and not just wait till the journey's finished. I must admit I'm not very happy about the time we're going to spend in this carriage. I'm, like him, worried about what happened in London. With Geoffrey injured and Lebrun at the helm everything could change… He didn't like what happened to Great Britain but he fears even more what could happen without my husband's presence…"

Elizabeth took her sister's hand in hers.

A real smile came on her face.

"God, Jane we are the beginning of September and I'm listening to you speaking of your husband and he seems the most natural thing in the world! You remember a month ago? We had no idea that we would be married before September…"

Jane tightened her grip on Lizzie's hand.

"And what's more: happily married… I had dreams but not even my most fantastic dreams were at par with what I live now… It's as if I had been transported in another world, more fairy tale than reality…"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Aren't you a little bit worried about Geoffrey. This morning's letter said he's still unconscious."

Jane shrugged her shoulders.

"Of course, I'm worried. Of course, I can't help imagining a world without him. It's so easy to let myself be overwhelmed by worry and despair. But then I look at what happened these last weeks and I wonder if, should the most tragic events happen, so much happiness will not be enough to live on for the rest of my life?"

She shook and nodded her head at the same time.

"I know I want more of those days and more of those nights but then I imagine what could have been my life in the chains of a loveless and mercenary marriage. And I find myself smiling at the happiness God already gave me and despair disappears immediately…"

Her hand went to her belly.

"And then, there are my children. Why should I force on them my worries and doubts? I'm so happy to have them, so happy to have been able to give the man I love that ultimate proof of love that I refuse to mare their happiness with imagining what could happen in a more perverse and inhuman world."

She smiled at her sister.

"And, when I listen to my feelings, I know he will be well."

She chuckled.

"Promise me not to laugh at me, dear and I'll tell you what I imagine will happen…"

"Why should I laugh at you? There's nothing to laugh at in this matter…"

"Yes it is," replied Jane. "And you'll see immediately what a romantic fool your sister is… Do I have your promise?"

"I promise…"

Jane closed her eyes and a smile came on her lips. A very tender and loving smile.

"I've seen myself entering the room where he is nursed and looking at his immobile body. I come near him, slowly place my lips on his and at that moment his arm comes behind my neck and he awakes to kiss me…"

She opened her eyes to see Elizabeth's smile lighting their carriage. For a minute of sisterly complicity she said nothing but her eyes was sparkling in the darkness.

"Yes," said she finally, "no doubt there, you're a real romantic fool…" She came over and hugged her sister. "And I would be very upset to see you changing into anything else…"

* * *

Maureen who, like she had sworn when they were kidnapped, was present in the carriage, did everything she could not to interfere with the sisters. While silently surveying the countryside, she forced herself not to snicker. Those two were the most extraordinary abnormalities she has ever witnessed.

They were both smart and had learned quite a lot of useful and handy skills but when it came to men they were just two perfect charming and idiotic fools. God, they had been lucky, both of them, to find men who had and the same romantic expectations and the means to give them the world they believed real.

In a world where most of men were lustful wolves and most of women greedy hyenas, the chance that those four ever found each other was of the tiniest sort… But they had and it could probably be counted as enough of a miracle to bring any lost soul who witnessed it, back into God's Light!

Any _freshly_ lost soul, corrected Maureen. Old vicious and cold lost souls like her were probably too long lost to be salvageable at all…

She laughed and both sisters looked at her.

"Sorry," said Maureen, "but I couldn't help." She looked at her ward and shook her head. "You are right, you know: you and your sisters are really living in a fairy world!"

The sisters chorused a frown which gave away their blood relation much better than their appearance. They were indeed very different but their mannerisms were so similar that nobody could have a doubt that they were sisters raised by the same parents. In their case it was Edward Bennet's frown…

"I don't want to insult you, but you must realize that what you're living should be sheer impossible in times such as ours?"

She smiled at the sisters.

"I shouldn't say it because it's unprofessional and because d'Arcy wouldn't like hearing that I said it, but I like you both very much. You're kind, you're compassionate, you speak with your servants because for you they are real interesting people you care for and," she looked at Jane, "for you my dear ward, I've seen that you would rather risk dying than hurt a fellow human being be it the ugliest scum the world had ever produced…"

She sighed.

"Until I met you, it was my opinion people like you could not exist. Somewhere in my mind I just refuse to agree at your existence. You should not be real. It's as if you just sprang out of a book…"

She hesitated for a few seconds, probably waiting for a reaction from Lizzie, and then continued.

"I know it's not really in my job description but I'm discovering that protecting you is becoming more an accepted duty than a job. It even tends to become something more. Much more than a physical task, it's becoming…" she hesitated and looked for words. "…different… I now see it as a challenge to preserve such perfect young Ladies. But to do that I need to open your eyes to some of the realities of the world there…" She pointed in the general direction of London, "…outside."

"We know the world," protested Lizzie. "We've been…"

"From sheltered home to sheltered home, Mrs. Darcy," interrupted Maureen. "Longbourn is as much a haven as Gracechurch street and Pemberley. Until your marriage, you were invisible and, being too poor to interest the Gentry and too rich to sink into nothingness, nobody took the time to notice you. You just floated between two worlds belonging to both while never being part of either. But now that you're going to be in the limelight of London they'll look at you, they'll seek you out and they'll study you to find your weaknesses. And in such an environment, you'll need to do what's necessary to preserve your openness to both sides of the society. You'll need an inner haven you can take with you everywhere you go."

Maureen looked at the sisters.

Jane was, as usual, interested and ready to listen. She would listen and then decide. Elizabeth's frown, even if it had smoothed, was still there and she could read in her eyes that she was not happy with what she just heard. But neither was she rejecting it…

She was too smart not to feel that what Maureen had just said had truth at its core.

So she too would listen.

She exhaled heavily. It got against her very conviction to help anything English and never would she have thought that one day she would be tempted to help _English Ladies_, but as said her Grandma: 'life will change you, lass…".

It had already happened and it seemed that it was happening again.

She could always cheat herself by hiding behind friendship. Which did not exist, did it?

"You are important Ladies now and the world is awaiting you both with a smile, to seduce you, and a snarl, to scare you, and both ways are dangerous ones. The smiling one will try to use you and the snarling one will try to silent and dominate you. One way or the other you'll be bitten very harshly if you don't look at who you're letting approach you!"

She looked out the window at the last parts of the Pemberley Estate. They were exiting their haven; soon the world would reach for them…

She sighed and came back to her little speech.

"I know it's not my job, nor my position, to give you advice elsewhere than on the dojo. But you Bennets are such a rare and strange band of aliens that I'd like to do it nevertheless."

She shot a defying glance to the younger sister who would be the most reluctant. Jane… Well Jane being Jane she would listen to her now or some other time. But both sisters were exposed and both could benefit of what she had to say.

"If you prefer me to stay silent, just say it and I'll concur."

Jane opened her mouth –_probably to say to go on_– when her sister stopped her.

"Why would you want to help us? I've always heard you speaking badly about us…"

Maureen shrugged.

"I have a foul mouth and I speak badly about everybody, haven't you noticed? Even my Irish brethren are not above my wrath. Mankind is not worth a damn and until a few weeks earlier I hadn't met a member of said humanity that could have changed my mind…"

She snickered at the world and at herself.

"But that last part seems not to be true anymore…"

She looked Elizabeth in the eyes. And there was flint and iron in them.

"And why I would want to help you? Probably because I'm getting old and soft. Believing finally that friendship and love are more than empty concepts? Finally believing that they exist and could touch the same as me?" She played with the handle of one of the numerous throwing knives she had hidden on her body. "Call it sentimentality, if you want… I just believe that this world would be even uglier without both of you able to influence those husbands of you. And I do believe the world is very ugly already." She smiled to herself. "I'd like it to stay at least the way it is or, if possible, to become a better place to live…" She looked toward the sisters. "And I'm convinced that with you alive and better prepared it _could_ become a better place."

She saw Jane's hand holding her sister forearm and saw her bend to whisper something in her ear.

Elizabeth finally sighed and nodded and she could see that her eyes were lighter and brighter.

"Best way to introduce you to the realities of the world you are going to enter will be to speak about me. About what can happen to girls who have the bad luck to live in a war ridden country with no parents able to protect her…"

She made a face.

"Not that my parents did not try. They just couldn't. When there's an army on rampage going through your country and if you have no troops on your side, there's nothing left to protect you. The men who try, die. It's as easy as that. They'll die fast from a bullet or slowly from hunger in an English jail. And without protectors, you're just lambs to the slaughter or, in case of pretty –_or not so pretty_– young girls, maidens for the raping. Even your parents, even your father with all his experience and battle skills would not have been able to protect you against the French if they would have charged through your little peaceful borough had d'Arcy chosen the usual way to pay his troops…"

She smiled.

"You probably don't know because he never speaks of it, but these last three months he has paid his troops on his estates earnings…" She tilted back in her seat and tapped the window with one forefinger for emphasis. "He is an awesome charismatic man but charisma is never enough when greed and lust is involved. You need more and he knew it. That's why he paid huge sums to get his men to stay calm and civilized. I know he got them tenfold back but nothing was sure and he could have lost quite a lot of money in this enterprise. He took the risk and it paid! So he got himself the title of the first war lord who pays his soldiers in order to get them under control…"

She smiled at Jane.

"He's an awesome comedian who has years of experience in playing the bad ruthless killer role." She lifted a hand. "Don't take my words for what they are not. He can be a bad ruthless killer. Even a blood lusty bastard if something really upsets him. I have even seen him do very ugly things with a satisfied smile on his lips. But most of the time he did it because the situation needed it." Her smile became more tender which did wonders for her features. "When he feels himself safe he's a very different man and one could believe he lets his evil twin roam the world while he is hiding somewhere safe. But one thing is sure; I have never seen him taking advantage of a defenseless creature. And that's why this invasion went on so smoothly. He did what had to be done to secure the best behavior of troops who had not always had these restrictions."

Here smile disappeared and her hard mask came back.

"We, in Ireland had even less chance since it was the army that should have defended us who did the rampaging. And they rampaged through my village, through my house, and, since we are under educated and informed ladies, through me." A very ugly expression covered her face. "It quite changed me and the truthful little girl I was became the ugly hateful warrior I'm now…"

She sighed.

"I have killed quite a few of those English soldiers –_in reality they were Scotts for the most of them– _and I was quite proud of my tally. I was even prouder of the way I got at them…" She laughed at the curious air –_another of those Bennet mannerisms_– that came on the sister's faces. "And you'll have to excuse me but I won't describe how I did it. It's really not something you need to know. Not because I believe it would shock you but because I'd like you to continue to look at me with a certain amount of respect…"

"We won't judge, Maureen," said Jane. "We could understand…"

"I'm sure you could," said her bodyguard. "But I don't want you to understand. I want you to ignore. I prefer you to ignore…" They looked at each other. "Please?"

"Of course," said Jane while looking at her sister to get confirmation. "It's your choice only…"

Maureen nodded and smiled.

"Was not always so, but then there are things I don't want to speak about…" She took a long breath. "I've been in Paris with d'Arcy. At that period we were still," she smiled, "sharing our nights. And I came in contact with quite a lot of people. I soon saw that if the English were my very best enemies, the others were not in the least better… Napoleon is surrounded by all sorts of different people. You'll find a few fine and honest soldiers –_that's because the First Consul has a good eye for men of the sword_– but mostly you'll find sharks that lick his boots to get more advantages. And they are there because Napoleon has also a fine eye for men he can manipulate with promises and little gifts."

Elizabeth came nearer.

"Lebrun is one of them?"

Maureen shook her head.

" No," answered she. "And even if d'Arcy does not like him; that man is, in his own right, a man who can be trusted." She stopped and bit her lips. "If, that is, he sees you as interesting for France. That's why, even if d'Arcy never showed the least sympathy for him," she chuckled, "and he can be, from time to time, quite uneducated, Lebrun never opposed him publicly. He believes d'Arcy to be an asset for France. And he is not a man who will waste such an asset."

"Why is there such an hostily?" asked Jane. "Geoffrey says Lebrun is Napoleon's pawn…"

Maureen scowled.

"I do believe that Lebrun looks like d'Arcy's father. When confronted with that particular line of memories your husband is quite unreasonable…"

Jane could only nod. Yes that could be an explanation.

"As for the truth," added Maureen, "the Consuls trust each other and Napoleon relies in Lebrun's constitutional and financial skills. But I believe their relation is more a partnership than a boss-pawn relation. D'Arcy, in this matter, let his antipathy take over. In my opinion, Lebrun is _not_ his enemy but it's only my opinion and I could be wrong…"

Elizabeth frowned at Maureen.

"You seem to know Lebrun well…"

Maureen smiled impishly.

"We met," said she, "on a rather intimate level." She looked at Jane who seemed rather shocked that her Geoffrey could have been betrayed by his former paramour.

"It was a test," she continued. "I wanted to see if he was faithful to his wife…" Her smile became wider. "As you can deduce, he was not! But he was kind, covered me with gifts and made me interesting offers." She nodded for herself "Offers I had to refuse since my association with d'Arcy was still very satisfactory and I wanted neither abandon him nor betray him…"

She pointed a finger toward Jane whose shock was not lessening.

"Don't look at me in such a manner, _madame d'Arcy_. You can't at the same time be jealous of my past relations with your husband and shocked because it appears I was unfaithful to him. We were already looking for a way to end a relation that was no longer satisfying. It was not really a betrayal. As I said, a test…" She looked at them from under half closed eyes. "And it was not my only one, so please stop being so shocked with me. Since I was not married to him, dumping him as a lover was a thing I could do without remorse… Dumping him as a sponsor never ever touched my mind."

Elizabeth winked at Maureen and let her know to go on. Her sister's reactions were not always very easy to understand when in relation with her husband.

"Let's go back to Lebrun… As I said, he's not, in my opinion, d'Arcy's enemy. He's what the French call a "_serviteur de l'Etat_"; a State's servant. He will always first consider the welfare of the French Nation. But immediately after, he will consider the interests of his _friend_ Napoleon. He's no adventurer and, because of two very difficult periods in jail with the Guillotine as probable ending, he has an acute understanding of his own mortality. This understanding means that he will hardly ever take risks to his own security but also that he can be impressed into doing things he does not really want to happen. But if those events give him a way to crouch out of danger, he'll embrace them greedily…"

She looked at the sisters.

"His place as number three had never really satisfied him. And his family life is not the best one could imagine. His relationship with his wife is no longer very close. They have an understanding and they are both very happy to see each other as rarely as possible. So I believe he is looking for a way to show himself as a Statesman. And his journey to London could be just that!"

She made a worried face.

"But he's also a rather insecure man who craves for friends he could trust. I'm sure he and Fitzwilliam Darcy could develop an interesting relationship." She looked toward Jane an apology in the eyes. "Let them know each other while d'Arcy's interference is at his lowest and it could be the best thing for everybody… Lebrun needs allies if he is to stay in England. Why not do him a favor and help him to discover who would be best?"

She glanced at the sisters.

"You're both very charming young ladies. You should have no problems to convince him that you are one of the keys to England's heart…"

She lifted her hand when she saw them frown.

"And no, he won't try to flirt with a married woman. As I said, he escaped death twice and he'll never take the risk to enrage haughty gentlemen like those husbands of yours…"


	40. London Pep Talk

Man to man discussion...

* * *

**Chapter forty: London pep talk**

* * *

**London. Saturday the fifth September. **

* * *

"Still here, Charles?"

Charles Bingley looked up from his papers and Edward Gardiner got the hopeful glances, the five secretaries Charles needed to help him, exchanged.

He hid a smile and entered the room.

"Gentlemen," said he to the harassed and tired collaborators, "let's call it a day, and for that matter, call it even a night. Go home and don't come back before two o'clock this afternoon. I'll see if I can convince my young partner that normal people need sleep and that even abnormal people like him are able to collapse when not fueled with enough spare time…"

They didn't asked for a confirmation. There was a chorus of good byes and they were gone.

Charles looked after them with a frown.

"They won't be of any use without a little sleep, Charles." Edward Gardiner approached and looked at the maps on Charles' desk.

The whole south of London was drawn there. The south that would be in a few month the heart of England's industry… Thousands of houses would be built and in a manner of months hundred thousand people would call what was yet a country side their home.

"Not the same map as yesterday?"

Charles shook his head and pointed toward the six green holes in the cities fine grid.

"No, Kent was right when he said that our districts were too much overbuilt. I agree that we need green parks everywhere." He pointed at the surrounding of the parks. "There we will built the schools, the nurseries and the hospitals. And most of the finer shops." Charles smiled at the map. "My first draft was grueling indeed. I almost forgot that those we were going to house there are people who need more than just a place to live. They need places to enjoy the life…"

Edward Gardiner opened another map, smaller this one and looked at the new draft of the three family houses with courtyard and garden… At the beginning they were partisan of one family houses but one of Charles' secretaries had pointed out that they not only wanted them to have a house but to be members of the community and from there on was born the concept of shared housing. Each family had enough rooms to be independent but, within the building there were a common kitchen, a great assembly hall where they could invite the neighborhood and a "water house" with bath, loo and wash room…

And since each three house would share a common central "placette", it was hoped that the inhabitants would soon share common goals and parties.

Each "placette" would be planted with trees, normal and fruit trees, in order to get to the people a sense of "home".

"And what about the price?" asked Mr. Gardiner even if he knew the answer. Nothing financial ever escaped his attention. He had built a great fortune by being very attentive to such details and he would never forget that little rivers built great streams…

"We are winning on that side too…" smiled Charles. "Not a lot but the cost for housing one person is steadily decreasing with each new draft."

"Be careful not to let the building contractors cheat us on the materials."

Charles shook his head.

"No chance, there, I went through all the propositions and refused them all. They all tried to cheat us. One way or the other… I looked it up and I found the people I could trust and hired them…" He smiled at his senior partner. "Seems that we will be our own contractor in this venture. It will lessen the price tremendously…" He sighed. "And meanwhile I got a few contracts outside the Company to keep the staff and the crews busy…"

Edward Gardiner nodded and put his hand on his partner's shoulder.

"Alright, Charles, I'm convinced you're the best I could imagine…" He looked him in the eyes. "Now could we speak of what is tearing you apart?"

"Nothing's tear…" Charles stopped and nodded. Long and slowly as if to convince himself to be true to his feelings.

"Let's go to our 'garden'…" said Edward Gardiner. "At this time of the day we will be alone and have every opportunity to speak…"

* * *

A few minutes later they were sitting in what everybody in the Company called the Garden. It was a terrace with dozens of flower boxes, exotic straw umbrellas and seats in great numbers where members of the Company could lounge and relax when they needed it…

As supposed, everybody save the trio of servants who were paid to be here at every hour of night and day, was already at home and they were alone to sit around the fountain. One of the waiters was immediately at their side.

"Bring us a bottle of port wine and two glasses and then go home, Jonas. And don't come back before lunch time. It was a long day, take a long night…" said Mr. Gardiner before sitting back deep in his comfortable chair.

The port came and the servant disappeared before Charles sighed.

"I don't know…" said he finally.

"Speak her name, Charles," answered Mr. Gardiner between two sips of his favorite wine. "Just speak her name, it will be a good beginning…"

Charles sighed anew.

"Jane…" said he in a whisper. "Jane, I still love her…"

Mr. Gardiner first smiled and then chuckled.

"So do I, Charles. I love her and I will never cease to do it. And that's not what you should seek."

Charles who was sitting with his elbows on his knees looked at his senior partner.

"But…"

"No buts, Charles… Nobody can ask you to stop loving her. What you must do is stopping coveting her…"

Charles nodded while chuckling.

"Easy for you to say such things! I, I'm just looking at my own failure." He shook his head. "I could have had her for wife. I could have had the most perfect woman as my consort and I just let my best friend and my sisters convince me that she did not love me… I'm a perfect idiot…"

Mr. Gardiner sipped at his wine and nodded.

"That's only a half truth, Charles. You were an abysmal fool but as you have seen these last weeks, you're not an idiot."

He placed his hand on the young man's forearm.

"First, even if from the outside my dear niece seems perfect, she's not… She has her down sides and you would have soon been a privileged witness to them, but I will concede that all in all she's better than most women I have encountered." He squeezed Charles' arm. "And she would have been a perfect wife to you, have no doubt in that matter." He sat back and sipped a few drops of his wine. "But that part is behind you. She'll never be your wife and you'd better accept that your future years will be either years of angry solitude or years of acceptation of what will never be…"

Charles looked up and his face was grim.

"He could die…" whispered he. "He's not yet out of the hospital. And the next attempt could be more successful…"

Edward Gardiner stopped sipping and shook his head.

"Listen to you, Charles! Do you really want to be _that_ man? The man who begins his day praying that the husband of the woman he loves should die soon? The man whose best wish would be to throw the woman he loves in anguish and despair?"

Charles shook his head, placed his glass on the table and passed his hands through his hair.

"No, no," answered he. "That's not what I want to be but that's what I will end being! I can't help it, I'm jealous and envious and nothing would give me more pleasure as to see him dead…"

Edward Gardiner stood up and turned around the fountain to be able to face his junior partner.

The two men looked at each other.

Finally Mr. Gardiner steeped forward and crouched before his young friend.

"No, Charles, it's not what you will end being if you take hold of yourself!" He forced the young man to look up. "You're hurting and you believe yourself unworthy, but that's all a lie you're telling yourself. You're not worthless and you have everything in you to go on and build a new better life! But you must accept that she will never be yours…"

Charles looked at his elder who could see that they were shining with unshed tears.

He stood up and turned his back to give his young friend the opportunity to dry his eyes without having to shame himself in front of his partner.

He plunged his hand in the fresh water of the fountain and spoke as to himself.

"Stop living in the illusion that some day she could find her way to you, Charles. Hers is a love that cannot be replaced. If, one day, and may God do that it never happens, she should lose her d'Arcy, she would never come back to you, her first love of better days, more carefree days. She would hurt but her hurt would not drive her into the arms of another man…" He turned to look at Charles. "And especially not your arms, Charles…"

Charles didn't ask but Edward Gardiner could see the 'why?' in his –_now dry_– eyes.

"Think of it, man. And sorry if what I'm going to say hurts you, but you were her first true love. You were the first man she fancied herself to marry for love. And, even if you did not truly do it, you dumped her! Do you really believe she will welcome you after having been at the side of a man who did everything to convince her that she was the most special wife in the world? Had she been married into a marriage in order to save her family, perhaps would you have a chance to still be the perfect image of a future husband." He shook his head. "As it is, she will remember you as the man who disappeared from her life without even saying a polite good bye…"

"I apologized…" said Charles.

"And I'm sure she forgave you," answered Mr. Gardiner. "But we are not speaking of being friends, here; we are speaking of you waiting for her to become your wife… And that; my poor Charles, is something she will never again envision…" He sighed. "Not that she hates or despises you, no, just because you've shown her that you could be convinced not to stand by her side…" He came nearer and grasped his young partner on the shoulder. "I hate the word, but it really was! It was a betrayal of her feelings. She will be able to forgive you, I'm even sure she already has, but she will never again be able to look at you as a man she could trust to be at her side in every stage of her marriage." He snorted. "You lost that 'trust' when you accepted to be bullied out of her life. She will never be able to understand it in conscience, but deep inside her she will always compare you with _him_! And he did his first formal proposal a quarter of an hour after having seen her for the first time! Nobody will ever beat him on that turf. Should she be a widow, some will try and perhaps a few of them will be outrageous enough to propose at first sight, but you Charles, you have forever lost that very possibility. You'll be forever his perfect opposite: you never proposed, you never even recognized that she was waiting on said proposal and, what's even more, while she was waiting on your next move, you just vanished into thin air. Should she loose d'Arcy, she won't be looking for another man for quite a long time and, please trust me when I affirm it, if she begins looking around her, she'll never look again for you!"

Charles exhaled lengthily.

"I'm a loser…"

"No you're not," interrupted Mr. Gardiner. "But it's true that you failed your love affair with Miss Jane Bennet. You failed it in the worst possible manner and, in my opinion, there is not a chance in the universe for you to repair the done damage!" He looked his junior partner in the eyes. "But that is only a little inconvenience in the reality of what is happening now. Jane is happy with her new husband, the situation of her family, mine included, never was better and Great Britain, even while invaded is not on the brink of poverty or desolation."

He sighed while nodding toward Charles.

"You are the only one with an enormous problem and it's only because you persist to thrive in self loathing that it has taken such proportions."

He took Charles by the arm and forced him to stand up.

"It's high time to move on, Charles. You'll soon see Jane twice or thrice a day when she comes to London. You cannot remain in this uncomfortable position forever. You must turn the page!"

They walked toward the exit of the Garden and Mr. Gardiner put the last burning laps out.

"There's nothing for you in self loathing and self reproach… Your chance to get Jane is lost but you have plenty other chances to get other kind young women…"

"Indeed," snorted Charles. "I'm quite sure that my new status will have them flock around me like flies around a flame."

"Indeed," acknowledged Mr. Gardiner. "But then what's the problem. You're now a gentleman with twenty five thousand a year. Yesterday you were a gentleman with five thousand a year. There's really _no_ difference. They'll flock around you as usual. And perhaps within this flock there will be a Jane like creature who will be able to see the man behind the wallet…"

Charles snorted.

"There's nobody like Jane in the whole Republic."

Mr. Gardiner smiled at his young partner.

"Indeed there's nobody exactly like her. But there are a few reasonably similar to her in character and upbringing you should perhaps begin to consider as interesting…"

Charles frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Mr. Gardiner laughed at the young man's frown.

"I mean, my dear Charles that while you were whining and crying and being desperate about what you've lost, there were eyes that never let you out of their sights."

Charles looks around him.

"You mean here?"

Mr. Gardiner could only smile at so much blindness.

"Not here, Charles. Think back when we were all at Pemberley. When you learned that there was another man courting Jane… Who stood by your side and gave you advice as how to fight for your position in Jane's heart…"

Charles' frown deepened.

"You mean…"

Mr. Gardiner nodded.

"I do, Charles, I do."

Charles shook his head.

"But why would she have tried to help me to secure Jane if she…"

He was unable to say the words.

Mr. Gardiner chuckled.

"Because she's a Bennet, Charles. And because she was more interested in her sister's and your happiness than in hers, that's all." He laughed and tapped Charles on the back. " My nieces are quite a singular little bunch of humanity, Charles. They can be seen as silly or uneducated or savage or even boring but one thing they do not lack and that's Heart! So while you were looking at what you thought you were losing, you've been perfectly blind to what was still yours…"

* * *

"Mmhhh…"

A smile came upon her face the moment she recognized him.

""You're late…"

He chuckled.

"As usual, dear, as usual… It seems that we're no longer able to go to sleep at the same time…"

"You're an important busy man, now…" whispered Mrs. Gardiner while smiling at him. "There's always a price to pay when one enters another realm…"

He sighed.

"I must confess that I enjoy what's happening to me but I loathe the consequences on our family. I no longer have enough of you and our children…"

She crouched toward him and placed her head in his arms.

"It will be better in a few weeks, I'm sure… Now you're just too busy to be able to remember that you're also a husband and a father…"

He kissed her.

"I miss being a husband…" whispered he.

Her laughing eyes sparkled in the darkness.

"I'm here and not quite asleep. If you don't remember everything, I'm quite sure I could give you a hand to retrieve the basics…"

He kissed her, this time much longer…

"How was that?"

"There are some remains, that's for sure… But I feel a lack of practice there… Try again…"

He did as he was asked.

* * *

"Indeed it is late," said she later in the night. "We're near two o'clock in the morning… What was the problem?"

He smiled at her.

"Charles…"

"Ohhh…" whispered she. "Not yet over Jane's choice?"

"No and if I'm right he'll never come over that particular failure of his."

He stopped his wife's next comment.

"But he's coming out of his depression… He will, some day in the future, be able to see her without sinking in the deepest melancholy. For now he's too taken by what he's lost to think straight about his future as a husband…"

His wife cuddled at his side.

"It's Geoffrey's assassination attempt that brought everything back, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"Yes, he began to think about her being free again…"

She shook her head.

"He's in for a bad surprise if he believes that she will come to him after having lost her d'Arcy."

"We spoke about it and I hinted it to him. I believe he has understood that he's the last man in England she's going to seek out to overcome the grief of losing a husband…"

"She's not grieving yet!" observed Mrs. Gardiner.

"Indeed she's not," approved her husband, "and I'm quite sure he's not going to die. He's shattered but not down. He'll be back in no time and I wouldn't like to be in the shoes of those Irish fools who launched that silly attack against him."

His wife sighed and put her head on his chest.

"Jane won't let him be too revengeful. She'll make sure that he finds a balance between justice and revenge. She was always good at mediating… There will be no mass executions."

Edward Gardiner was not in total agreement with his wife but he chose to remain silent. It was not really important for them and the fact that Jane would soon be in London could be a good thing to smooth d'Arcy ire.

Being almost killed was not a very easy thing to overcome and for a man of d'Arcy spirit it would be even more difficult.

"You don't agree, I feel it…"

He grumbled a noncommittal comment.

It was really difficult to have secrets from his beloved wife. There was perhaps some truth in those mind reading legends…

"I hope you're right, but d'Arcy has such a tremendous energy, I fear he will be at a loss to control his fury."

Mrs. Gardiner chuckled.

"I'm sure Jane will find a way to tap into these amassed unused energies. Trust a loving wife to find ways to smooth even the most legitimate anger. You'll see he won't let his wrath appear."

"I really hope you're right because I couldn't stand at the side of a man who could kill innocent people…"

His wife gave him a tap on the chest.

"He's done nothing yet, so please don't judge actions he's not yet committed. You'll see under his exotic appearances he's the most civilized man I ever encountered."

Mr. Gardiner chuckled.

"His choosing of your favorite niece wouldn't be a reason for your great trust in him?"

"I have no favorite niece, dear, and you know that very well even if everybody believes that it was Lizzie who had earned that title a long time ago, but nevertheless I cannot deny that I'm prejudiced for a man who had the good taste to propose to our Jane less than an hour after having encountered her. That was a real show of insight and intelligence…"

"You like him way too much; I'm feeling myself becoming jealous…"

She laughed.

"Indeed you should, my dear husband. You're the same age and look at him, athletic and brawny, a smile to damn a saint and the most attractive dimples I've ever seen…" She tapped his waistline. Not quite so athletic as d'Arcy's. "Mind the comparison?"

He sighed.

"I should perhaps spend two hours a day doing calisthenics, like him… Would it change something about your preferences?"

She kissed his bare chest before shaking her head.

"No, even if I'd the choice between a more muscular figure and you to share my bed, I know you would win the toss, so you have no real choice, husband, if you want me to share my bed with an athlete but to practice!"

He sighed.

"I won't find the time…"

"You should try before complaining. He finds the time to do it and it does not stop him from doing everything else…"

"He's not human!"

She tickled him.

"I read Jane's last letters and I can only conclude that he's perfectly human. He just doesn't let doubts hinder him. So now, stop complaining and act…"

He did as ordered.


	41. On the Road

Twenty chapters to come!

* * *

Man to man discussion and more...

* * *

**Chapter forty one: On the road**

* * *

**Between Pemberley and London. Sunday the sixth September. **

* * *

"You too?"

Edward Bennet chuckled.

"Indeed. Three days in the same carriage with my wife and my three younger daughters would be too much for my poor nerves…"

And since he said it in exactly the same way his wife used to speak of her nerves, he got the smile on Fitzwilliam's face he wanted.

He bent over to be nearer to his son.

"And," added he," I'm quite satisfied to have gotten back my rider skills. For too long have I stayed inert and lazy. These last weeks I have rediscovered the pleasure of a difficult ride and my body seems to like it even more than I…"

He opened his arms and sniffed with enthusiasm.

"I never felt so young in years! Pemberley has literally transformed me…"

Fitzwilliam smiled at his father in law.

"You're welcome to come and go as you wish…"

Mr. Bennet thanked him with a smile.

"I didn't doubt it a second but I won't come and go as often as that. Once or twice a year –even if it's for three months periods– will be quite enough! I'm now a guest in Longbourn and the least I can do is to manage it in a way that Jane gets more when I die than she could hope for…"

He stopped his son before he could utter a polite platitude.

"Don't say it, Fitzwilliam! Let me be frank one time in my life. I'm a lousy manager and the way you work for Pemberley has brought me shame! You have only Georgiana and you do everything to increase the value of your estate. I had five daughters and I just let my steward cheat me out of the little Longbourn could have provided!" He sighed. "Thanks to the circumstances I'm now in a much better financial situation than ever before. I feel it as my duty to look after my daughter's good as I never did before…"

Fitzwilliam smiled at his father.

"The entail was probably not a very good incentive to do your best," said Fitzwilliam who had discovered a real liking for his wife's father. They often shared an hour or two after dinner and he liked his father's opinions. They were, to say the least, rather extreme but he had always been able to justify his positions. Fitzwilliam did not agree with most of them but he could understand that a man like Mr. Bennet would defend them. Fitzwilliam still believed that a Monarchy with an enlightened King was better than a Republic with a demagogic leader, but he could see the advantages of both systems now and the long conversations with his father in law had given him quite a few ideas about the way a Monarchy could be bettered.

And then there was their common love for horses and husbandry. Mr. Bennet, even if he never had had the funds to launch a real stud farm had a quasi encyclopedic knowledge of English Horses and their lineages. Had the circumstances been a little less stressed, they would have been able to build the best of all breeding schedule for English and Arabian thoroughbreds.

"I could have used the benefits of my work to increase the dowries of my daughters. Collins would never have had an opportunity to get at that part of my fortune." He shook his head. "No, it was pure and ugly laziness, Fitzwilliam. Nothing else…"

He looked at the country side and followed his son to be able to ride side by side with him.

"I thought a lot these last days and I came to the conclusions that the very bitter young officer who came back from the Colonies had no real wish to thrive again when he took over the Longbourn Estate… There was something broken in me. Everything I had loved, my career and the woman I met there, had been taken away by an ugly scheming royal dwarf and I just wanted to fill my head with the last things I loved and refused to even look at things I despised."

He nodded at himself.

"It was very wrong of me but I made my wife pay for my bitterness. And I became a bad husband too."

He looked at his son and a real smile came on his face.

"Have I already said to you that I do like you very much, Fitzwilliam?" He stopped his son's attempt to answer.

"No, don't say a word. I know, gentlemen don't speak of such things, gentlemen should stay aloof of sensibility and all those other womanly ways to show their approval but I'm fed up with that bad theatre! I want you to know that I'm very proud of my son in law and that I could not have dreamt of a better man for my preferred daughter!"

Fitzwilliam couldn't help but blush.

"I had a son, once," continued Edward Bennet. "He survived a few hours before dying." He chuckled unluckily. "For a long time I was persuaded that he had fled as fast as he could the moment he had seen what a loser his father was…" He shook his head once more and tried to force a smile on his lips. "It did nothing to improve the ambiance at Longbourn house." He looked at his son. "The more I think about it, the more I believe it was my entire fault…"

Fitzwilliam took the floor as soon as his father stopped talking.

"We all make mistakes, father. And one mistake you haven't done, and that was to fail my wife's up-bringing…"

Mr. Bennet chuckled again. This time it was a merry laughter.

"She did it all alone, boy. She, as well as the others! My daughters are way too intelligent to let an old fool like me spoil their life. I tried but they always came out better."

He sighed.

"Even Lydia who was nevertheless my best attempt to spoil a life, came out of all my attempts at spoiling her with a will of her own and a real goal in life." He shook his head still not able to believe the changes he had witnessed in his younger daughter. He pointed toward the sky. "I lost my faith a long time ago but now I cannot explain what is happening to me and my family without bringing superior forces into play! Who else could have had the patience to sort out all the mess I provoked these last years?"

Fitzwilliam stopped and forced his father in law to look at him.

"You're too harsh with yourself, father! As I said you made mistakes but they were small mistakes that never put into peril your daughter's future. "He smiled. "I'm sure now that one way or another Elizabeth would have ended bearing my name and my children." His eyes began to shine. "She's just exactly what I was awaiting. With her I'm more than myself. We are completing each other so well; I would never have dreamed that such a relation could be possible…"

Mr. Bennet nodded and tapped his son's shoulder.

"You're right and it goes both ways. You bring her as much as she gives you. It's a pleasure to see you interact. It is of such a relation I have dreamed all my youth and in my foolishness I'd imagined the life I could have had with Caroline as just so perfect…"

"Caroline?" asked Fitzwilliam.

Mr. Bennet looked at his son with surprise in his eyes.

"You don't' know yet?"

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"Well, time to give you a few insights in the adventurous youth of your father in law, then." He smiled. "We have three days and it should be enough to give you a little idea of what I was before becoming an embittered old fool."

* * *

"Kitty will be the first," insisted Mary. "We agreed on that point!"

Lydia sighed and nodded.

"Indeed we agreed…"

"And it will be the easiest of the whole endeavor," added Mrs. Bennet who had just learned of her daughters' plan. "Charles Bingley is a charming nature who will even be better suited to Kitty than to Jane." She smiled at her daughter. "I'm sure that your character is much more suitable with his. He's a man who loved to dance and make merry which is much more your description than it would have been Jane's."

She tapped her daughter's hand.

"While Jane was in his thoughts, you had no chance, but now… Now, that's another story!"

Kitty puffed.

"I'm sure he's still dreaming of Jane…"

Mrs. Bennet agreed with an energetic nod.

"And you do good to believe it. He won't forget her in the blink of an eye and he won't be looking for a replacement for quite a long time…"

Kitty nodded and sank in her seat.

"Which is an excellent thing, dear," added her mother. "He won't see the young ladies who are going to flock around him like locusts on an African field. That's you chance, dear…"

Kitty shook her head.

"Each time he'll be looking at me, he will think of Jane, Mama. He'll never be able to see me the same he saw her."

"And it's quite right he won't," said her mother forcefully. "You're not Jane and your advantages are not the same either. You're pretty and since you've decided to be a sensible young woman, you've achieved a maturity I would never have thought possible. Even without taking your dowries into consideration, my daughters are now all real assets for every sensible man. And I do believe Charles is a sensible man in his own right, even if he was unable to understand that your sister was in love with him…"

She shot a fierce glance to her daughter.

"And that's why you'd have to show him that you like him, Kitty." She made a face. "We can't take the risk to let him wander off without knowing that you're prejudiced in his favor…"

With a gesture she stopped Mary's comment.

"And I'm perfectly aware that I'm not to make silly comments about the match we wish. I won't do twice the same mistake, dears, I promise. I'll let you do what's necessary and I will stay at home awaiting your comments…"

Lydia made an apologetic gesture.

"It's not…"

"Yes it is," interrupted Mrs. Bennet. "We've spoken your father and me and we have analyzed what we did wrong in relation with Jane and Mr. Bingley. I must confess that I was not aware that my conduct could have been felt as outrageous by those lowly souls who did not agree with the match. I really believed that, even so, they would end up married…"

She made a face.

"And they would have if there hadn't been external interference to prevent such a conclusion."

She frowned.

"Not that I regret that Jane was still free to accept d'Arcy but had the French not invaded it could very well have been that Charles had disappeared from our lives without ever coming back." She tapped forcefully the window of the carriage. "We must not take the same risk twice and I'm very aware that in relation with your marriages I must change my behavior." She sighed. "And, now that we no longer have to fear to end in the hedgerows because of cousin Collins, I do really believe that I will be able to behave with more restraint than enthusiasm." She smiled at Kitty. "I know that in the case of Mr. Bingley it is perhaps too late but then let's hope that he will be conscious that you're worth his interest…"

"We must do everything that's necessary," said Lydia, "to secure him for Kitty."

"What about Caroline and the Hursts," asked Mary. "They were against his marriage with Jane they will be even more against his marriage with Kitty!"

Like a bad omen the carriage of Bingley's relatives had arrived the Sunday evening.

To share the escort while journeying to London. Of course Elizabeth had been the perfect hostess and had included the Hursts and Miss Bingley in their little convoy.

Lydia nodded but her face showed that she had already thought about that problem.

"I believe they won't try anything" said she. "First because Charles is probably still angry with them and therefore won't listen to them but also because I suspect they are, in their heart, very mercenary. With Kitty's new dowry and d'Arcy's position in England, they will probably welcome the match."

"If Charles can be convinced," said Kitty, "what they think is the least of my worries."

"He will be," said Mary. "But we must be careful not to be too obvious about our goal. A little finesse would be welcome."

Every eye aboard the carriage turned toward Mary.

"What do you have in mind," asked Mrs. Bennet who was discovering that behind all the religious nonsense her daughter was preaching quite a fine mind was hiding.

"Well," answered Mary, "I have asked Fitzwilliam a few questions about Charles and it appears that he…"

* * *

"How will Charles react?"

Caroline looked at her sister and made a face.

"No idea," answered she. "He has refused to answer my letters. I think he's still quite angry with me."

"But he is no longer angry with Darcy," complained Louisa Hurst. "Why is it that he is so lenient with his friend and so harsh with us?"

Mr. Hurst snickered in his corner.

"Because he has probably understood where Darcy got his plan of action… He's no idiot and he knows you both well enough to be able to reconstruct the whole scheme. Darcy is a gentleman who will use duplicity only as a last resort…" He smiled at his sister in law. "You on the other side will use it from the very beginning of any campaign you launch…"

Caroline shot him an ugly look.

"I won't accept such words," cried she, "you picture me as if I were a mean and vicious harridan…"

"Your words, Caroline, not mine!" chuckled Mr. Hurst. "But I must say that you are probably not very far from the image you gave these last months…"

Caroline paled and bit down her next comment. She needed the Hursts and she could not afford to alienate them.

Hurst chuckled even louder.

"Indeed, dear Caroline, indeed, you need us now more than ever and I would like you to remember that, if we no longer are in the good grace of our brother, it's definitely because of the way you treated Jane Bennet. I know him as a very nice fellow but right now he's a very nice fellow who's lost the woman he loved in great part because of us. And, that, dear sister, will not be a very easy fact to erase."

He sighed and shook his head.

"And it is a shame since he seems, thanks to d'Arcy and Gardiner, to become even richer than before!" He shot an angry glance at Caroline. "Would it be unseemly to say that now would be a good moment to make it up with Charles? As I see it, it would be an intelligent and profitable move to try to smooth the angles and to have him forgive us!"

He used the 'us' on purpose even if he has never been part of the little anti Bennet conspiracy. He needed Caroline to accept to make the effort to close the gap with her brother.

He had no doubt that _dear _Charles would soon forget his anger and start all over again to support his sisters and his brother in law.

If Caroline could be pressed into accepting her responsibility and to make the first step in direction of her brother!

If he could convince her to show a little remorse and to act in a friendlier manner toward the people who were now surrounding her brother, it would be a great step in the right direction.

Even _she_ should be able to understand that if what sheer lunacy to be at war with one of the most important man of England's new rulership.

"I did nothing," spat Caroline. "It was for his best!"

Her eyes sparkled.

"It was really for the best! Had we not interfered he would have married Jane and she would never had had the opportunity to meet this d'Arcy and…"

"Stop it, please!" shouted Hurst. "I must admit that, the Bingleys and Hursts not included, the situation has evolved into a rather pleasant direction for everybody involved. But, please, don't try to do as if you had foreseen anything. You acted against Jane Bennet just out of spite and because you were still hoping to enter Darcy's family by means of Charles and Georgiana. So, please, don't show yourself as the benevolent deity who acted to bring happiness to everybody! Your plans backfired but had favorable consequences for most of the people involved," he raised his voice, "we excluded!"

He looked at his sister.

"And that's exactly why you're going to make it up with Charles. He's now a very important actor of England's History and I don't see why we shouldn't have our share of what he is harvesting just because you acted in a spiteful and unladylike manner! It's up to you to convince him that you are truly repentant and that it was just a mistake! And I hope, in your own interest that you'll be able to swallow your pride to do what's necessary!"

He shot her a fierce glance.

"We are family, Caroline, and Charles will probably be one of the richest men of this country, I don't see why we should accept to be buried in some backwater hole in Derby with just enough to survive while we could, with a little effort on your part, use his new position and become trend makers of the new London _ton_!"


	42. London Dragons

Come and visit their new Lair...

* * *

**Chapter forty two: London Dragons**

* * *

**London. Sunday the sixth September. **

* * *

"I hate these blue crows before my house!"

Anne didn't lift her eyes from her papers.

"They are here for our protection and since they were here before our arrival it's probably thanks to them that our house has not been visited as most houses in the neighborhood…"

Lady Catherine de Bourgh snorted.

"I just can't stand being under the protection of those Frogs. It's unseemly!"

"It's the new reality of the realm, Mama. You'll have to get used to it, it's not going to change very soon."

Lady Catherine de Bourgh stopped looking at the pair of blue liveried guards standing before her stairs and looked at her daughter. She really didn't like the new Anne de Bourgh. But like for the French soldiers guarding her house, this new –unknown– Anne was part of the new reality of the realm…

"How can you be so calm while our dear country is invaded and bends under the yoke of the enemy?"

Anne, still not looking up, just shrugged her shoulders.

"No need to lose time with something you can't change…" She looked at her mother. "That's a truth I've learned very early in my life. When I understood that I'd inherit my father frail constitution, I knew that I could never live a normal life…"

"Yes, you could have…"

"No," interrupted Anne in the voice her mother didn't like at all. Perhaps because it reminded her so much of the way a certain Lady Catherine spoke with underlings! "I couldn't. I would not survive my first pregnancy and you know it very well! And I really have better things to do with my life than to die giving birth to the next heir of Rosings! And since Geoffrey took away our Estates, I'm no longer in the sad position to be forced to die to secure our wealth, I'm quite happy." She smiled in her mother's direction. "You can't imagine how much I'm relieved!"

Lady Catherine hit the floor with her walking stick. Anne did nothing to acknowledge her mother's wrath. She knew that she would not go farther than a loud gesture.

"How can you be happy that we have been robbed? We now live only on the allowance he gives us, that's not to be born!"

Anne smiled at her mother.

"The allowances, mother, the allowances… I'm even more glad to this, his, last little gesture!"

"I would have paid for your expenses," grumbled Lady Catherine. "As I always did…"

"No doubt, there, Mama! But by giving me an allowance he has also given me my independence! And that's a gift I'll cherish for the rest of my life…"

Lady Catherine who had had a rather heated discussion with her daughter the day she had learned about Anne's allowance –_to add insult to injury it was a greater allowance than hers_– knew now that in a direct confrontation she had no chance to prevail against her daughter. Anne just stood there, her eyes half closed and had out waited the onslaught. And, at the end she just stated her opinion with even more will than her mother.

"You could have asked, I would have emancipated you…"

Anne did not answer to that lie. She knew that her mother would only have abandoned her rights on her to give her to a husband. But she was in no mood to begin anew a fight with her mother. She had done what was necessary to make certain that her mother knew where they both stood and it was enough. She took no pleasure in humiliating her mother and the situation as it existed now in the de Bourgh Town House was to her complete satisfaction.

She turned and opened another of the numerous letters she got every day.

A smile came on her face.

"General Fitzwilliam is back in town…"

"With an army?"

Anne looked up and frowned at her mother.

"Mama, be serious, even you would have heard of an incoming British Army. No he's here as the King's ambassador. He just visited his father's town house."

Lady Catherine nodded enthusiastically.

"Then I will call on him this very morning. I'm sure he will be glad to see me."

And with him it would probably be like in the old days. She would order and he would obey.

She sighed her satisfaction. What a wonderful feeling it would be to be in charge again!

"He won't be there, his father's town house has been robbed and gutted by miscreants and poors…"

Lady Catherine turned in direction of her daughter.

"What? And why haven't I been informed? Must I remind you that that House was the House of my parents? That it was there that Lewis made his first call? That it…"

"Because," interrupted Anne, "you would have been upset and being upset is not good for your health," answered Anne. "Must I remind you that you don't like being pampered and fretted over? So I judged it better for you not to know about that ugly event."

Lady Catherine swallowed the comment she was about to utter.

Two weeks of "_Independent Anne_" had taught her that if her daughter had inherited the frail constitution of her beloved Lewis, she had inherited the strong will of the _whole_ Fitzwilliam lineage. Once established, there was no way to make her change her mind. And a few days before, after a little bout of coughing on her mother's side –_really nothing at all, just a cloud of dust_– she had decided that her mother was an old woman who needed to be pampered and looked after.

Since then she couldn't sneeze without having two doctors and three nurses fretting over her.

"Well," grumbled Lady Catherine, "thanks for your thoughtfulness, dear, but now I'm quite well and I'm sure I'll be able to endure a little bout of bad news. Please go on…"

Anne shook her head.

"Nothing else to say, the burglars forced the servants' door and robbed everything of value but, before leaving, they opened all the doors and even the windows of the ground floor and soon all the poors of the town were there to take a part of the Fitzwilliam's heritage…"

Lady Catherine frowned.

"But if I remember well this d'Arcy said all of the Fitzwilliams' real estate was his. Why hadn't he put guards before their house?"

Anne sighed.

"It happened before he entered the town with his men. Fitswilliam's town house was one of the first to be robbed. I believe the burglars entered their house while they were shutting down the front door…"

"And d'Arcy has not reacted?"

"Oh, he has reacted, Mama. And he reacted in the best way possible. He sent his best agents on the burglars trail. And with quite interesting results. Most of the burglars are in jail now and most of what they stole was recovered by his Gendarmerie. I suppose Richard will soon be called to search what was belonging to his family." She looked up. "He has already hired people to repair the damage done. It should take a few weeks before he can move in his old home. I suppose he will use the opportunity to change the house's outlay."

Lady Catherine looked at her daughter with ire in her eyes.

"Why should he change anything? It was perfect as it was. No need to change anything. I must go and tell him…"

Anne stopped her rambling with that awful and ugly little cough that always got her mother's attention.

"Mama, must I remind you that your old family town House is now d'Arcy's responsibility and not yours and that if Geoffrey could do as he pleases in all our possessions, I suppose it should be left to Richard to do things which could anger your nephew. Please don't forget that we depend on the allowances he lavishly bestows us."

That brought her mother in quite another mood.

She immediately forgot Richard to lash out at that other nephew!

"That ungrateful little Frog does grate on my nerves! It is not to be born that he could have robbed us of everything and even be able to interfere in the way we want to go after our affairs…"

She hit the floor twice with her walking stick.

And that was the signal for two doctors and three nurses to enter the room with vials and potions and bags…

Lady Catherine's ire webbed down but didn't disappear completely.

"Oh come on! I'm in no need for medication! I'm just upset…"

"Being upset is not…" said doctor Richardson, who was the head doctor of the household.

"Good for my health!" shouted Lady Catherine. "I know, I know! I hear this nonsense ten times an hour! It's not to be born!"

Anne looked up from her papers.

"Mama you should really calm down! If you insist on being upset doctor Richardson will have to use _laudanum_ again and you know how that infringes your mind…" She smiled in direction of her mother. "And it would be a bad moment to lose your wit since I have, finally, got what I asked of professor Pitwick…"

That news stopped Lady Catherine's temper immediately.

"Oh, good," said she while walking toward her daughter. "Now we'll prove that this horrible man is a fraud…"

Anne made a gesture and the troop around doctor Richardson disappeared as quickly as they had entered the study.

"As I said before, it won't change anything, Mama. He's still the Proconsul of France and nobody will be able to push him out of Rosings."

Lady Catherine snorted.

"We will have the proof that he is a fraud and we will hire lawyers to attack his claim on our Estates. If he is no d'Arcy he won't be able to go on with claiming to be the legitimate possessor of Rosings. And I'll be able to go back in my own house!"

Anne stayed perfectly impassive. It had been at her demand that "d'Arcy" had ordered the de Bourgh to move out of Rosings. Had they stayed in Rosings never had she been able to proceed with her little coup.

But Pitwick's inquiry would be interesting even if it didn't bring what was her mother's heart wish.

"Let me look at it, Mama, I'll be able to give you a summary in a few minutes…"

Lady Catherine, a smile on her face, sat herself in her throne like armchair and, both hands on her upright walking stick began her wait.

Ten minutes later, Anne looked up.

"Great news, Mama but not what you were wishing…"

Lady Catherine frowned and sat even straighter.

"How can it be great news if it is not what I was wishing for?"

Anne smothered a smile. She loved her mother even if, from time to time –one hundred times a day– she could upset her. But never ever had she encountered a human being who was more self-centered than her mother. She just couldn't imagine that what was not in her favor could be good at all. And, sometimes, it could be difficult to bear.

"It is great news for the family even if it shatters our little dreams of a successful trial."

"So he is what he pretends…"

"Yes and more so…"

"How can he be more than a d'Arcy…"

Anne pouted and showed her mother what was clearly a copy of a family tree.

"He's more than a d'Arcy because he is also the last living heir of William the Conqueror…"

That shut Lady Catherine up!

"Oh…" said she after a while. "That's quite a nuisance…"

Anne nodded while unrolling the chart. It was a quite long chart and most of the newest twigs were crossed in red.

"William's lineage disappeared in England a long time ago. But his grandfather line went on in France and the first Earl of Arques after the conquest of Britain was a grandson of William."

Lady Catherine surmounting her disillusion frowned in her very peculiar way.

"I believed there was a d'Arcy with William! How could he exist with William and appear only with William's grandson?"

Anne read again the commentaries and finally looked in her mother's direction.

"That's because the Earl of Arques at the time of the invasion was William's uncle and he chose to not support his nephew's claims. William finally took an army and besieged his uncle's castle. After a few months of light warfare William won and took Arques away from his uncle. It stayed his till his death bed where he gave it to one of his bastard sons…"

That brought a smile on Lady Catherine's shattered face.

"So now we know he's only a bastard's heir…"

"It was eight hundred years in the past, Mama," reminded Anne. "And bastard son or not, he's still William's last direct offspring".

But it was not enough to erase the satisfaction from her mother's mind. _He_ was nothing but an upstart! She's always known so much. She would not be able to force him to give her Rosings back but she would have the satisfaction to be of pure blood. She was the result of a thoroughbred lineage! He was only the result of a side step…

With _that_ she could survive.

Anne shook, discreetly, her head and continued her study of d'Arcy's family tree.

Quite a lot of Dukes and even a few French kings had added to d'Arcy's tree. He was perhaps only an Earl but he was an Earl with lots of famous ancestors and in the case of England, the most famous of all could give him quite an authentic legitimacy.

"It is interesting, Mama, that the same family invaded this country in quite the same circumstances. One successful battle and the Land is theirs. It seems to me that England has a real liking for that particular lineage."

She sighed wistfully.

"I wonder if he knows."

But she knew it was only a rhetorical question. Of course he knew! That part of his family tree was so evident that he could not not have looked it up…

Or could it be that?

She would have to ask him.

As soon as he came out of what doctor Richardson, quite a good doctor in his own right, called a coma.

_If_ he came out of his coma!

She hoped it with all her strength because she owed him so much but, in the end, even if he died, it would not be the end of "Independent Anne". For that it was too late. Even the Town House Staff referred to her now. And, meanwhile, the Rosings staff was being discreetly culled from all her mother's influent buddies. They all got princely bonuses and most of them were quite satisfied with the possibility to move on. Some didn't but then, too bad for them. When, –_next time they were allowed_– they went back to Rosings, her mother would have quite a surprise. And since everything would have been done by d'Arcy's steward, her mother would go on insulting the ugly Frog without ever knowing that it was her own daughter who had sent said steward the list of the people she wanted gone…

_Time to go on_…

"What shall we do with this information, Mama?"

Lady Catherine was immediately her old self. Alright she would not be able to get Rosings back the humiliating way she had envisioned but she could still gain a lot by being what she was: aunt to William's last legitimate heir.

The bastard part would have to be hushed. It would be her innate pleasure to rub the little parvenu's nose into his dubious ancestry. But that would be in privacy. For the common folk and ordinary aristocracy, they would stick together.

"We use it, dear! We could even use it to further England's cause…" She looked at her daughter. "We will have to be careful not to misuse this information. If he is William's heir then his wife's coming children are just the next generation. We'll have to surmount our legitimate antipathy for this Elizabeth to be in favor with d'Arcy's wife. She is of quite a common ancestry but then she has shown that she is well bred and has always been very polite to me. Not like her obnoxious sister…"

"She's Fitzwilliam's wife now, Mama…"

Lady Catherine sniffed with outrage.

"As I said, obnoxious! But, I'll do my best to forget her bad manners to further our relations with d'Arcy's wife. You've seen her, didn't you?"

Anne nodded and smiled at her mother.

"Indeed and I found a spirited and compassionate young woman. She was in no way in awe before Geoffroy and I do believe it helped her to secure his love…"

"And that's a good thing," stated Lady Catherine. "She's an asset in England's game and we are going to use said asset…"

Anne mad a face.

"I'm not sure she'll be easy to manipulate…"

Lady Catherine frowned.

"Who's speaking of manipulating? We are family and we will just act as family. She will need help and that help could come from a great number of directions. Let's be sure that said help comes from us and nobody else!"

Her mother stood up and went to the wall to ring for the servant.

A second later he was at the door.

"We leave within the hour. Please prepare the carriage. We go to the Palace…"

A glance from Anne and the servant bowed before leaving.

"The Palace, Mama?"

"The Palace, dear! Our dear nephew is unconscious and in need of compassion. It should be evident that we, as his nearest female family members must be at his side in this difficult moment."

She looked at her daughter.

"When do you believe they'll arrive in London?"

Anne had no hesitation about the 'they' her mother was speaking of.

"Tomorrow afternoon. Probably around five o'clock…"

Lady Catherine nodded.

"That's good. We'll go to the Palace today, we will stay a couple of hours and we will go again tomorrow, around three o'clock and we will stay till she arrives. I'm sure she will be very happy to see that we cared for her husband…"

Anne looked her mother in the eyes.

"But do we care, Mama?"

There was surprise in her mother's eyes.

"Of course we do, dear. He is a stinking invading Frog but he's _family_! And what's even better, he's a thousand times more honorable and smart than all the Hanovers who polluted England's throne!" She raised an eyebrow. "I can't stand him as a symbol but that doesn't mean I despise him as a man or a soldier! He does his duty and I'm quite satisfied that Lewis helped him. My Lewis had an eye for good people." She smiled an unfamiliar tender smile. "And he chose me, that should be proof enough!"

She shot her daughter an amused look.

"He's earned my respect and I know of nobody else alive who did the same. There are quite a lot more whom I would despise before him…"

There was a clatter in the street.

"Carriage's ready… We go…" said see while going toward the door.

Just before going out she turned toward her daughter.

"You have news, you have always news… How is he today?"

"His doctors are not worried yet. He's in good health and his body should be able to resist a few more days of unconsciousness. As of now his waking up is a question of hours…"

Her mother's smile grew.

"I hope we'll be there when he awakes. I'd love to be the first to insult him…"


	43. Memories

They are soon to arrive...

* * *

**Chapter forty three: Memories**

* * *

**Luton. Monday the seventh September. **

* * *

"I did it once!" cried Jane, tears of laughter running out of her eyes. "Only once in all my life and it was just the day Mrs. MacFarlane chose to look after the fruits in her orchard. Never in all my life was I more mortified than that day when she dragged me at home to denounce me to Papa…" She dried the last few tears. "I remember how I felt! I would have given everything to be able to disappear into the floor…"

Elizabeth, laughing in the same manner and shaken by bouts of laughter was unable to speak for quite a long time.

Indeed, _she_ had pillaged Mrs. MacFarlane's orchard each day of each season and never ever had she been caught. Probably because sweet Jane has always been there to look out at the path… And the sole day where Jane –_shy, obedient and reasonable Jane_–had climbed the apple tree, she had been caught.

"I was so surprised hearing her shocked '_Jane Bennet, what are you doing in my tree_?' that I lost my footing and I would probably have broken a few bones had not Mrs. MacFarlane jumped to catch me in the air…"

And Mrs. MacFarlane being one of their father's most impressing and strong tenants, she had had no problems to catch light weight Jane Bennet and, as an aftermath, to carry her all the way to Longbourn.

After a long moment of shared laughter Jane looked at her sister and shook her head.

"And what I was really unable to understand at that time was the fact that as soon as Mrs. MacFarlane was gone Papa took me in his arms and kissed me!" She looked at them with that same wonder in her eyes. "I remember his words perfectly. He looked me in the eyes and said: 'I'm very proud of you, Jane, very, very proud… You can't imagine how long I have waited to witness that little infraction'. He kissed me again and offered me a little bag of sweets…"

Elizabeth opened wide eyes.

"I remember that day," said she. "The day you shared the sweets with us… You refused to say for what you got them from Papa and it was the only time I can remember where you were so discreet… Finally, after all these years, I learn the truth!"

Jane shook her head.

"Of course I couldn't confess to you. I knew you would immediately run to Mrs. MacFarlane's orchard in order to be caught and get your own sweets…"

"Indeed we would have. I'm sure Kitty and Lydia would have been with me running all the way…"

She laughed even louder.

"And I'm quite sure that, if _we_ had been caught, Papa would have been much more inclined to spank us than to reward us…"

Maureen, for once smiling, could only nod.

Yes she could very well imagine Mr. Bennet's joy to be, finally, able to witness a little breach of the rules committed by his way too calm and obedient daughter. To see that under all this perfection and self control lurked a very normal little girl… He must really have known her very well to accept to take the risk of giving her sweets.

Sure that if her father had given her sweets to pinch fruits in the neighbors' orchards she would have tried to mount a business out of it…  
Or course Jane only wondered why and just never did it again.

* * *

"If you look at the majority of them," claimed Kitty, "they are hypocrites and nothing else!"

Mary protested immediately.

"You cannot generalize in such a way, Kitty! I'm sure, on the contrary, that most men of the cloth are honorable and obedient servants of the Holy Scripture."

Kitty snorted and was soon joined by Lydia.

"Look at Cousin Collins! Never have I seen a more bootlicking little weasel…"

"Catherine, mind your tongue," interrupted Mrs. Bennet. "Our cousin is perhaps not the most agreeable of all clergymen we have encountered but he still is a man of the cloth and we should show him the respect these honorable men deserve! Now that he has lost the entail on Longbourn even more than before."

"Mama," protested Lydia who still had the best standing with their mother. "You must be joking! He would have thrown us out to starve in the hedgerows as soon as he would have inherited Papa's Estate!"

Mrs. Bennet shook her head.

"You cannot be sure! He's a Christian _and_ a Clergyman and as such it would have been his duty to look after us all…"

Lydia nodded with a doubtful pout on the face.

"I'm very happy that we will never have the opportunity to verify our cousin's willingness to live up to his Christian pretenses…"

Her mother frowned at her.

"I said: 'stop it, Lydia'. You cannot slander him in such a manner. We will never know but our Christian faith asks us to believe that he would have helped us. Don't forget his wife; I'm sure Charlotte would have insisted on his helping us!"

"Had she not married Mr. Collins I could have believed you, Mama," said Kitty. "But to marry such an obsequious ugly clown has definitively convinced me that she was even more the fool than him."

This time Mrs. Bennet showed her daughter that she was really upset and frowned at her in her most impressive manner.

"Last warning, Lydia. I won't tolerate slander under my roof and don't be too harsh with poor Charlotte. She would probably have ended a spinster had she not secured Mr. Collins. And she would have been very unhappy to never be able to bear children! She will be a very good mom and her children will have a very happy youth…"

Kitty looked toward the heaven.

"What disgusts me is when I imagine her doing what must be done to get those children…" She winked at Lydia. "She should find a lover… It…"

"Catherine Bennet" shouted her mother. "Never ever shall I hear those same words coming out of your mouth again! It's so much a shame that you already know so much about the way man and woman have intercourse, but to hear you speak so boldly of taking a lover, that's intolerable…"

Kitty smothered a smile.

"I won't need a lover: I'll have the most handsome, joyous and charming husband of all London. Charlotte, on the contrary…"

"I said: "stop it, Kitty'. Charlotte has made her choice and she will have to live with it. It is not ours to judge her or the consequences of her choice! And I won't say it again; I refuse to hear you speak in such terms of matters of love…"

Kitty was quite surprised when help came out of an unexpected quarter.

"She was not speaking of love, Mama," said Mary. "She was speaking of procreation! Because I very much doubt that there is love between Mr. Collins and Charlotte." She pouted. "And I'll go even further, I doubt that our cousin could even feel such an exotic and selfless thing as love…"

Her mother was on the brink of speaking again but she continued.

"And I know very well, Mama that you have thought to marry me to Mr. Collins when Elizabeth refused him. And, please, have no doubt that I would have refused him in even harsher terms then her. Had he been foolish enough to come to me after having been refused by my sister I would have explained to him how his behavior could be considered, what he was worth as a Clergyman and what I was thinking of the manners of a _so-called_ man of God who was clearly worshiping wealth and Status a lot more than God…"

She shot an angry glance toward her mother.

"And I would have taught him what it really means to know and understand its Scripture… That's for sure…"

Kitty and Lydia exchanged glances.

It would have been fun to listen to Mr. Collins' trashing by their sister. Sure it would have been a lot of fun!

* * *

"Man, was she haughty…" said Mr. Bennet coming slowly to an end with the first part of his American adventures. "It took the death of her maid to bring her to speak directly to me. Two weeks long she spoke to her maid who repeated exactly the same terms a second time. I could have slapped both…"

Fitzwilliam could very well imagine the situation. He had witnessed a few of the Princesses' behavior and haughty was a word which had probably been invented in order to speak of Royalty.

"And then we was caught in the Huron ambush," continued Mr. Bennet. "God, it was a real slaughter, I'd already understood that our captain was a fool but it was only at that particular moment that I saw that he had a specialization in making bad decisions. We finally won but we lost more men than I could have thought it possible against half our force of bad equipped Indians…"

He shook his head reviving those awful moments where men fell and blood splattered all over the grass.

"They finally retreated. And only twelve of my men were still able to fight. A few more could walk but most of them were injured or dead. My captain had been injured and was no longer able to ride." He smiled. "He was shot in the ass and it did him a lot of good to be humble in that way…"

Mr. Bennet looked at Fitzwilliam.

"I'm sure, had he been able to ride or to sit, he would have abandoned us and would have sprinted toward Boston with her. And I would have cheered their departure. But as he was injured he had no choice. I was the only surviving officer alive and not injured. He gave me the mission to bring her royal highness to the coast." He smiled in retrospect. "The young idiot I was could not see the truth in his heart ad I went into that mission with a smirk on the face…"

He chuckled.

"She didn't smile either… Not that it gave me the least satisfaction that she was as upset as I!"

Mr. Bennet sighed. He shouldn't have begun this tale. His heart was pounding and old, almost forgotten feelings were coming back. Not that it could change anything, but to feel the old hurt was difficult to bear.

"I took four men and the coachman and we went on…" He adjusted his hat. "What we hadn't guessed was that the attack was only a diversion to get us divided. In reality they were after her Highness and not two hours later I had confirmation that we were followed…"

He was going to continue when one of the guards riding towards them at a gallop inclined him to stop.

* * *

"We arrive in Luton in about twenty minutes," said the sergeant after saluting. "That's where we will stop and entrust you to some of General Duroc's men. The change is necessary since they are the only ones allowed to enter London. Hopefully we will find good news at the garrison in Luton."

"Hopefully," agreed Mr. Bennet. "But I'm sure that even without immediate news we will soon see the Proconsul up and walking…"

The sergeant nodded, turned his horse and rode back to the top of the column.

"We should be in London just before sun set," said Fitzwilliam. "I suppose Jane wants to go to see her husband immediately. I propose to make a stop at my Town House, to empty the carriage your elder daughters are using and then to let my sister go to the Palace. Who do you believe should accompany her?"

"We'll let her decide. Perhaps she wants to see him alone… Perhaps not. We'll see. I'm quite sure that she won't come back this evening to stay at the Palace. We, on the other side, will probably all come back to your House if you are still able to put up with a whole crowd of Bennets."

Fitzwilliam smiled at his father in law.

"I'll find the inner resources to put up with the family…"

"We won't stay for a long time…" said Mr. Bennet. "I want to go home to Longbourn as soon as possible. But it could be that one or the other of my daughters insists to stay in London. If I have a say I would prefer her to stay at the Darcy House rather than at the Palace."

"Don't worry, they are welcome and I'm sure Elizabeth will be a very efficient chaperone."

Mr. Bennet made a face and it was clear that the last part of Fitzwilliam's sentence was not something he believed easily.

"Don't be too sure of that. They are a very close little bunch and I'm quite sure that they are all able to look elsewhere when it comes handy. But I'm no more really worried that one of my daughters will do something foolish. Rather the contrary, in fact. I'm a lot more worried about the smart and efficient things they are planning…" He bent over to lessen the distance to Fitzwilliam. "I'm not really in their confidence but I do believe they are working on a grand plan to find husbands as lofty as the Darcys of their sisters… They seem rather decided to get what they want…"

Fitzwilliam smiled.

"I'm sorry but I do fear Geoffrey and I are the sole Darcys alive and we are already married and, to judge on myself, satisfied and in no hurry to change spouses…"

Mr. Bennet chuckled at his son's attempt at humor. He was not yet very good but he was improving. Elizabeth's lessons were showing.

"That they know quite well but that will not hinder them to use you as examples…" He pointed a finger towards his son. "Son, you have established very high standards in my daughters' minds. I fear my next sons in law will have great difficulties to convince said daughters that they are worth their attention…"

He shrugged!

"They'll have to be good, that's all," said Mr. Bennet before winking at Fitzwilliam. "One I already know and I suppose that, him being your friend, one can consider that he has already passed the first exam with success…"

Fitzwilliam frowned and soon a smile replaced said frown.

"You mean Charles and Kitty?"

"Was it so obvious?"

Fitzwilliam made an noncommittal gesture.

"Not really, but I got help," confessed he. "My wife showed me some very evident clues on her sister's side. I was rather astonished that Charles had such an effect on both Jane and Kitty. But then he has all the social grace I'll never have…"

Mr. Bennet chuckled.

"Don't count on that, son! Elizabeth is a _very_ social creature. She loves being with interesting people and she loves any social event where people go to have fun. And since I know that she is very proud of that handsome husband or hers, I have no doubt that she will want to show him off as often as possible. You're in for a crash course in social behavior."

Fitzwilliam had no doubt that his father in law was right. He had seen how his wife had bewitched the whole Pemberley staff and he could very well imagine said beautiful wife bewitching lords and earls with the same ease.

"I'll do what I must to see her smile and be happy," answered he. "But I already know that we won't be very often a year in Town. I've described the beauties of Pemberley in Winter, Fall and Spring and I'm sure she will love them as much as I."

Mr. Bennet nodded once more.

"Being a social creature doesn't prevent her to be a very rural one. She would wither away in a town but she would also be very unhappy without a lot of social interference." He sighed. "Jane is more of the homely sort. She could probably live with only her family and a few friends. Lizzie, she wants to confront her wits with others. She and Kitty are quite similar in that aspect even if Kitty is more straightforward and less subtle." He tapped his son on the shoulder. "And I'm very happy that you finally find the courage to get to her and secure her. You're really very good matched. She will never be bored in your company…"

Fitzwilliam smiled. He would never be bored in hers that was quite evident to him.

"Would you agree with Charles?"

Mr. Bennet laughed out loud.

"I've already agreed with him with Jane and I'm quite sure he and Kitty will have a lot more in common than he would have with Jane." He lifted a hand. "Don't misunderstand, they would have been happy but their marriage would have been a very sedated one since I'm sure it would have been Jane who would have chosen the pace of their life. Kitty will be much more tuned to Charles. It will be even more so since he has chosen to work with my brother Edward. It will be a hard school but he will come out of it a man with a will of his own." He agreed to himself by shaking his head. "Yes, he and Kitty could build an interesting balance in both their life…"

Fitzwilliam could only agree with his father's comment. Kitty, out of Lydia's influence had blossomed into a fine young lady who has given liveliness and courage to Georgiana while taking good manners and discretion from his sister. Yes she would be a good match for Charles.

"I won't protest to see Charles entering the family," said he after a few seconds. "I already considered him as the little brother I never had and I hope he will be able to finally forgive me and give me the opportunity to make good for my abuses in Jane's and his case…"

Mr. Bennet made a face.

"It would be easier if he happens to overcome his misgivings in relation with Jane's choice." He winked at his son. "But don't despair, Kitty is quite strong willed and I do believe she has taken a very strong decision. He should not be able to resist the onslaught! If the hole in his heart is no longer bleeding he will be much less reluctant to consider a renewal of your old friendship…"

Fitzwilliam nodded grimly.

"I would like it very much to get our old complicity back. We were close for quite a few years and even Caroline's heavy insistence was not enough to lessen my pleasure at our relationship. I miss his good humor and his joviality…"

Mr. Bennet clapped him on the back.

"Don't despair, man! The problem is now in the hands of one of the Bennet sisters! Believe me, since they have decided to no longer be foolish or silly or boring, there's nothing able to resist them…"


	44. London Reunion

A renewal of love...

* * *

**Chapter forty four: London reunion**

* * *

**London. Monday the seventh September. Evening.**

* * *

The little convoy stopped a few streets before entering Grovesnor square. Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other and Maureen was soon opening the door and looking forwards.

"There are a few uniformed soldiers who are speaking with your father and Mr. Darcy. They don't belong to our escort. I believe they are police…"

Jane frowned and glided toward the door.

"Please stay put," said Maureen. "I don't like what's happening. Could be anything…"

She blinked and stood up to get a better view.

"Your father is coming this way. I hope he has news…"

* * *

"We will, once more, change escort," said Mr. Bennet. "It seems there are people in front of the Darcy town House and the authorities fear that blue frocked soldiers could push the crowd into some kind of frenzied reaction. We will have a gendarmerie escort. They are all English and well known and accepted in the whole city. It's seen as surer…"

"Who are these people standing in our House's front," asked Elizabeth.

"The officer of our new escort called them 'patriots' and I'm not sure what I could do with such a comment."

* * *

A quarter of an hour later they were exiting the carriages and a silent crowd was looking at them with a strange and curious longing. When Jane came out there was first a rumor and then a few shouts were uttered. Two women separated from the crowd and came toward the carriages. They were soon stopped by a line of policemen. A few angry roars could be heard and to Maureen's utter shock Jane walked around the carriage toward the two women.

The angry shouts soon disappeared while Maureen rolled herself under the carriage to get back to her ward's side.

A minute later she was at Jane's side scrutinizing the people surrounding her and ready to throw herself into a madman's bullet or flying knife.  
One of the women held out a few flowers for Jane to take them.

Maureen was first and smiled to the gift bearer.

"I'll take them for her, madam… Thanks."

"For the job my son got… We even have a place t'live in… Thanks, madame d'Arcy!"

Jane smiled at the two women.

"I did what I could to help," said she. "And I'll do more if possible, I promise."

A man came nearer and his face was not friendly.

Maureen's hand plunged in her pocket and grabbed the tiny but deadly weapon d'Arcy had manufactured for her.

"We don't need compassion or charity," said he. "We need jobs and a future in a free country!"

Jane looked at him and her smile disappeared to be replaced by concern.

"I'm sorry Sir, but I fear you're asking the wrong person," said she. "As you see I'm a woman and the only freedom I have is to be my husband's property and the only job men will grant us women are those of mother or whore." She smiled at him. "Which one do you want to share? Mother or whore?"

All women near enough to hear her remark laughed out and mocked the man. But Jane was not yet done with him.

Her eyes became flinty and Maureen saw the man cringe under her glance.

"Compassion and charity are things that, as a woman of the Gentry, I'm granted to perform! I won't let any man take that from me too!"

* * *

He recoiled and fled under the gibes of the laughing crowd.

Jane looked at him disappearing and then, looked at the crowd.

"I promise, I'll do what I can to help where it is possible but I won't be able to change the truth of the situation. The rulers have changed but the land and the people are the same. Nothing will be better if we don't make every effort to improve things. I'll help you to succeed but, first, you must do your share of the job! If you agree to earn your keep than I'll do what's necessary to convince those who have the power and the means to create jobs to do what's necessary!"

A few cheers answered her soon followed by a chant and applause coming out of the crowd.

To everybody's relief, five minutes later, all the family members, body guard included, were safely in the House.

* * *

_Damn_, thought general Fitzwilliam, _they are here_!

He had known that sooner or later he would find himself facing his dear cousin.

How could he justify having shanghaied the family Town House for his Embassy?

He had known that an Embassy in London would crystallize the attention of all real patriots and that the Embassy would be the gathering point of a lot of people.

Nobody would have said anything if he'd done it in his own Town House but here in Darcy's Town House, it was just a little more awkward.

But there was no return there. He needed an Embassy and till his own House was repaired, Grovesnor Street would be at the center of British England!

Fitzwilliam breathed lengthily and opened the door.

* * *

"Sorry," said Richard Fitzwilliam speaking to his cousin, "it's all my fault, I fear."

Fitzwilliam shook his head and pointed an ungentlemanly finger toward the crowd.

"Why is it your fault, Richard? What have you done?"

Richer made a funny face.

"My father's town house has been ransacked and I had no choice but to come and take quarters at Grovesnor Street…"

Fitzwilliam frowned.

"You're welcome, Richard. You always were and you'll always be, but how does it explain these people?"

Richard pointed toward the roof.

"That's because of the flag…"

"What flag?"

"The Union Jack," said Richard. "It's floating over the Embassy."

"What Embassy?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"This Embassy!" answered Richard while pointing more or less toward himself and the Darcy House.

"Alright Richard," grumbled Fitzwilliam. "Let's be very clear. Whose Embassy are you speaking of?"

"The British Embassy…" whispered Richard. "I'm the official envoy and I needed an Embassy. So I thought that since you, we, are cousins with d'Arcy putting the Embassy here would have only advantages…"

He pointed toward the street.

"I couldn't imagine that it would become the Rendezvous' point of every London patriot…"

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"You couldn't imagine, Richard?"

"How could I, Fitzwilliam I'm only a dumb general… People's behavior is not a science I master. Especially if said people are out of uniform!"

Fitzwilliam looked toward the heavens and shook his head.

"God give me patience!" He looked back at Fitzwilliam. "Now, Richard let's be very clear, do I have been expelled by my cousin in order to get him the place for his Embassy?"

Richard looked at his feet.

"Not really…"

"Not really?"

"Well legally it's d'Arcy House I've appropriated, not yours…"

Mr. Bennet had quite a few difficulties to calm down his son-in-law ire…

* * *

"Lizzie, am I being selfish?"

Elizabeth looked up, shook her head, went to her foolish elder sister and hugged her.

They were at the Darcy Town House and had bathed and changed before the last part of the journey.

And as often her dear sister was having second thoughts.

"Come on, Jane…" said she while looking her sister in the eyes. "Why would you be selfish?"

Jane bit her lips.

"Perhaps he needs to be unconscious and I, in my eagerness to hold him in my arms, am interfering with his healing process…"

Lizzie took great care not to laugh. Jane was the only living creature who could behave in such foolishly compassionate manner.

"He's at half an hour distance. You can't chicken out and not go to see him!"

Jane shook her head and bit her upper lips.

"What if my impatience hinders his healing?"

Elizabeth tried very hard not to show that she was exasperated by her sister's hesitation. Two days she had spoken of nothing else than her wish to have her husband in her arms and to kiss him awake and now, just before being able to do just that, she was having second thoughts.

"Come on, Jane… He's the most healthy man of our acquaintance, he's not going to die on us, you know him, he's much too vexing to let us in peace so early…"

That got her a little frown on her sister's brow.

"What?" said Lizzie. "Your fault! As long as he is unconscious he's fair game. It's up to you to do what has to be done to bring him back! As long as he can't react I'll slander him viciously…"

Jane couldn't help but smile. What had she done to deserve such a sister?

"You're right," said she finally after having inhaled a deep breath. "He'll be all right. It's really time to get him back! Let's go awake my sleeping prince…"

* * *

"They are late," grumbled Lady Catherine de Bourgh for the tenth time in an hour. "Do they believe I have nothing better to do than look at an unconscious man?"

Anne chuckled.

"There are a lot of less inspiring sceneries," said she while looking at the smiling face of her "cousin". "I do pretend that he's quite handsome and that looking at him is a rather agreeable duty."

She smiled at her mother.

"And it is our duty as his family to be at his side to comfort him, isn't it. We're here out of familial duty and compassion for our poor injured relative, are we not?"

"Don't mock me, daughter," rumbled her mother. "You know quite well why we are here…"

_Why _you_ are here_, thought Anne. _Why _I_'m here is quite different_.

"I know mother, I know…" said she while putting her book away. "But you should perhaps be careful. There are rumors that unconscious people do hear what's happening around them."

"And what?" asked her mother. "I have no doubt that he knows quite well why I am here and love for him is certainly not a believable reason. He knows I loathe him and I know he despises me. That said I need him and I very much hope that he's understood that he needs me! He wants us to be family? Well let's be family! I'll be his ugly aunt and he'll be my despicable nephew! That should not prevent us from using each other! Everything is a matter of interest, daughter, everything!"

Anne was not in agreement with her mother but she would not speak of her disagreement here. Not with d'Arcy _perhaps_ listening and not with the two guards _obviously _listening.

Her problems with her mother would stay in the family and, if possible, within the very near family of the de Bourgh mother-daughter couple.

She was just going to answer when a commotion outside told her that somebody was approaching.

And the somebody approaching was in force.

"I do believe they are finally here, mother. We should perhaps…"

She could not say the whole sentence since the door was opened to show both Bennet sisters or to be more accurate both d'Arcy/Darcy wives…

Jane had a little frown at the sight of Lady Catherine but Elizabeth made no effort to hide that _that_ presence was not welcome at all. But after a mere second her good manners came into play and she soon mimicked her sister's curtsy.

"Lady de Bourgh" said Jane with a trace of surprise in her voice. "Sorry to look surprised but I really…"

"Wouldn't have expected to find me here," finished her mother before responding with an unusual deep –_for her_– head bow to the young women's curtsies. "How could you? You probably were unaware of our presence in London. But being in London and being your husband's nearest family it was our duty to look after him… Even if he is an enemy and an invader…"

A little smile came on Lady Catherine's face.

"We all know how important it is for everybody to be surrounded by loved ones…"

It was a nice sentence and had she been able to find the right tone she could perhaps had had a chance to convince Jane that she was here out of compassion.

Spoken in a more than casual tone it looked more like irony than compassion.

This brought a frown on Mrs. Darcy's brow and a quick look toward the closing door to hide it.

Jane d'Arcy showed no reaction but a little smile.

A little worried smile.

_Time for us to wait outside_, thought Anne.

She took her mother by the arm.

"We should wait in the study next, Mama. I'm sure madam d'Arcy would like a few moments alone with her husband."

For once in her life her mother showed more wit than scorn and accepted to quit the room. But not entirely without an ungraceful gesture.

"Indeed dear, you are right, our niece needs some time with her husband." She shot an ugly look at Elizabeth Darcy. "That will give as a little time to make a better acquaintance of our other niece, Mrs. Darcy!"

A very unkind smile, –_more of a sneer_– covered her mother's face as she looked at Elizabeth.

"Won't we let the spouses alone, dear? I'm sure they would be very glad to be able to have each other…"

Said in that manner Elizabeth could not refuse. She looked at Jane who was lost in her worries and who was clearly unable to decide if she should go on and kiss her husband or stand in the middle of the room until doomsday.

She took a long breath, faked a smile in direction of her "aunt" and, just before turning to quit the room she pushed, forcefully, her sister in direction of her husband's bedside.

* * *

Two minutes later Elizabeth and Lady Catherine were looking at each other with no more trace of amiability in either's eyes.

"You must guess that I don't like you, Miss…" she corrected her expression, "..Sess Darcy. I do consider that you have lured my nephew out of a sane and much more suited union with my daughter…"

"I have lured nobody, My Lady. Three months ago, I never ever fancied being one day Mrs. Darcy…"

"And yet you are!" growled Lady Catherine.

"And yet I am!" answered forcefully Elizabeth Darcy making one step more in direction of her "aunt". She was a good head shorter than Lady Catherine, who was, as usual cheating with a heavy hair dress but that didn't stop her. She stood her ground and got even the upper hand since Lady Catherine was forced to step back. "It seems that my husband has discovered that his love for me is greater than his wish to respect the day dreams of inter family weddings his aunt has concocted in her… loneliness!"

_Touché_, thought Anne who stood a little aside and who had no intention to get in the middle of that war. She would observe and decide who had won after the battle.

"I'm not lonely," cried her mother. "I'm Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I'm the center of hundreds of lives. I'm the mistress of one of the greatest estates of England and everything there orbits around me…"

"Even the color of your parson's curtains, I know! I saw your exploits while I was at Hunsford. And I must admit that never ever in my whole life have I seen a person wasting her time and the time of her followers on more foolish matters! I do hope that it is because you're bored into idiocy and not because you take pleasure in meddling with other people's affairs like any common shrew!"

_Ouch_, smiled Anne behind a protective hand. _Knowing my mother, that must have been painful_…

She saw her mother's face becoming red even with the quantities of white make up she had her maid put on her face.

"Shrew? You name me shrew, you upstart little…"

Elizabeth finger pointed at her nose before she could find a word infamous enough to characterize her niece.

"Don't say things you could regret, My Lady" warned Elizabeth. "I'm a gentleman's daughter and a gentleman's wife even if you don't like it. And contrary to you, I'm in no need to terrorize my people with my whims and fancies in order to show that I'm Pemberley's Mistress. I'm now your equal and I'm in much better health than you!"

That last sentence stopped dead her vis-à-vis.

"What do you mean?" stammered she.

Elizabeth came an inch nearer.

"I mean that, if you go on threatening me, I'll fight back and I'll fight with everything I have which could include my greater strength and better health to pummel you into submission!"

"You wouldn't!" cried Lady Catherine while –_nevertheless_– stepping back one pace more.

"Try me, you bully," threatened Elizabeth. "And I'll show you how I have learned to dispatch with the such as you!"

_Time to do something_, thought Anne while taking hold of her mother's arm and placing herself between the two very angry fighters.

"Mama, please consider our situation," whispered Anne. "The tides of Power have varied in England so please be reminded that her sister's husband is not yet dead and that he could be easily convinced to let his anger for you expand and blossom! You were quite liberal in your judgments of him while we sat at his side and if he remembers only half of what you said, it would not be very difficult to push him into taking measures against us, you could lose everything…"

Her mother's eyes shot in her direction.

She was a very clever and smart woman –_a very bad mouthed and bad tempered clever and smart woman_– and she had no difficulties to get the nuances in her daughter's speech. There was still the possibility of an us. But there was also the chance that _she_ could lose everything! No longer an _us_ there… The message was clear and since she was in no manner ready to let her daughter go and be definitely alone, she bailed out of the fight!

She swallowed her next comment and gave her daughter the awaited answer with a little head bow.

Anne sighed and turned to look at Mrs. Darcy.

"Let's agree on the point that you and my mother will never be best friends, shall we? But you could, while in public, try to behave like family, couldn't you?"

Elizabeth looked at her.

"As long as I'm not forced to play the role of her loving niece, it could happen. I could accept to play her indifferent niece…" She shot an ugly look at Lady Catherine. "Not to say that indifference will ever be the feeling I have for you!"

"There we agree," shot back Lady Catherine.

"Perfect," interrupted Anne to squelch the next combat round before it could outgrow the fighters' intelligence. "Do we have a tame subject to speak about? What about the war?"

* * *

Her sister's push had brought her against her husband's bed.  
And she was still hesitating about what to do when she saw his smile.  
He was smiling… And when smiling he was the most handsome of all men she had ever encountered.  
All doubts disappeared and she let her lips touch his. And she kissed him.  
And his lips answered with a quiver.  
Her eyes brimmed with tears which overflowed on their faces.  
She kissed him again and this time she felt his hand moving to her head and stroking her hair.  
She opened her eyes and saw his eyes looking at her.  
"Don't cry, my love. Everything's just right… No reason to cry… As promised I came back…"  
He smiled at her.  
"You're here, love. I'm so glad you're with me…"  
His hand came behind her neck and he pulled her in a kiss of his initiative. She was so relieved that she had no strength to react and she was soon responding to his kiss. All reluctance fled and after a very long moment of total bliss he let her go.  
"Forgive me, _mon amour_. You've married the greatest idiot ever born on this planet and I don't deserve you…"  
Her tears came back more numerous than ever. They were tears of joy.  
She looked him in the eyes and she saw something she had never seen there, not even when he was courting her so desperately. He was pleading… And doing that, he was showing her another facet of his so complicated soul. She saw that he was a drowning man desperately in need of her and her love.  
"I couldn't come back before you were at my side… I'm so sorry but I was scared to come back and not to find you at my side… So I loitered!"  
"I promised, love…"  
And he could see her hurt at not having been believed.  
"I know, I know… but on this side it's so easy not to be true to its word. To forget! I couldn't and wouldn't come back before sensing you being there at my side."  
So he could have been conscious before… And he remained out of fear that she wouldn't come.  
For a few moments she was torn between two powerful feelings.  
Being outraged because he hadn't believed her and being overwhelmed by his need of her!  
Being Jane she soon forgot outrage to just bask in the knowledge of their true connection.  
He could have lied to her. He could have been remained silent. But he has chosen to be truthful. To be true to her.  
And _that_ erased all her anguish to let love and contentment took its place.  
She slid out of her gown, climbed on the bed and, with great care, slipped at his side.  
His only functioning arm was soon around her and she smiled at her newfound satisfaction.  
He was clearly not perfect and his personal choices often left a lot to be desired.  
Well neither was she perfect and she had her own faults aplenty. She smiled at him and she was even happier than before when she saw how strong his relief was.  
They were such an odd and incomplete pairing.  
But then she had known for a very long time that there was no perfection on earth. And two imperfections joining did _not_ create perfection.  
But, as it was in their case and at that very moment, it did create great satisfaction.

Coming soon

A few conversations going on...


	45. London Chat Time

Talking...

* * *

**Chapter forty five: London chat time**

* * *

**London. monday the seventh September. Night.**

* * *

"I should strangle you!"

He smiled at her pinched mien. She was exactly as he had dreamed her. Even a little angered she was still the most beautiful woman on earth.

"What use to kiss me alive to strangle me in the following minutes? You should have begun with the strangulation attempt…"

"I didn't know then that you're here only because you're an idiot and a braggart…"

He made a face.

"For the braggart you cannot plead ignorance," said he with a smile. "I bragged all the time while courting you. And you even made comments on that my bad habit…"

"You could have jumped with him, not thrown him out and waited till he looked at you…"

"I misjudged the fuse's length. I suppose the English ones have more black powder weaved in the cord. They burn faster…"

He arched his eyebrows.

"And my misjudgment was not so great. Had I had two seconds more I would have been…"

She stopped him with a finger on the lips.

"Stop it, husband! Even if I fell in love with a fool and a braggart, I'd like said fool to begin to behave like a husband and a father. In the past, you could do all the stunts you wanted and you were risking only your neck! Now, it's different…" She looked him in the eyes. "I need you and our children need you even more. The time for flashy performances should be behind you…"

He winked at her.

"Even the bedroom ones?"

She immediately blushed like mad and he couldn't help but happily laugh at his luck to be alive and to have her at his side.

* * *

"And stop playing me for a fool, Richard," grumbled Fitzwilliam while looking out of the window.

_She should be coming home now_… _She should be_…

The general chuckled and took another sip of his port wine. Fitzwilliam's port wine to be exact!

"I had to try, hadn't I? I had a chance to be the one solely responsible of all this mess. You could have played the dumb cousin who just understood nothing…"

Fitzwilliam snorted.

"Geoffrey will guess the second he gets the news. He's no fool that cousin of ours and he will immediately know why you chose my House to put your Embassy…"

The general looked at his cousin.

"And if I judge him correctly he will find it very smart and amusing…"

"And hire half the staff to spy for him…"

"Lower their wages, then, they just got a second income…"

* * *

"What would be the best timing?"

Lydia made a face and shrugged her shoulders before looking at Mary who, not only because she was now Miss Bennet, was at the center of their plans.

"Not tomorrow," answered Mary. "There is a chance that, knowing that we are here, he'll come and call. And if that's the case we will be much freer to weave our little schemes…"

"What about Aunt Gardiner?"

"That's a call we _have_ to make tomorrow," answered Lydia. "She's family and Mama will never resist the temptation to brag a little about us and the family saga…"

Mary made a non committal grimace.

"I'm not so sure about the bragging part," said she. "I find her much more reasonable than a few weeks in the past…"

Lydia looked toward the sky.

"Alright she's changed but she's not so much altered as to be another person! Gossiping is a part of her very essence…"

Mary smiled at her youngest sister.

"And it's not for you?"

"Of course it is," answered Lydia. "But there's a time for gossiping and a time for tactical thinking. We are not yet out of our Grand Scheme. We have to see after Kitty first."

Mary nodded and smiled toward Kitty who was a little feverish since their arrival. She would soon know if there was a chance that her dream could come true.

"You're right…"

She closed her eyes and took a few seconds to think.

"First, we must eliminate the luck factor. We can't count on him coming to call here. We must lure him here!"

Kitty looked at her sister with mitigated feelings. She was at the same time impatient and scared.

What if…

"Stop fretting," cried Lydia. "He'll come and he'll look at you in the way you wish it. You're not like Jane and, as Mama said, it's more of an advantage. He won't compare on everything…"

Mary clapped her hands together.

"I have the solution, we must enroll Aunt Gardiner!"

She looked at Kitty.

"Get me a writing tool, Kitty…" She then made a sign towards Lydia. "Please find me a footman who knows where to go to find Gracechurch street and who's willing to go this late in the night… If necessary ask Fitzwilliam…"

* * *

"Here we are, Mrs. Bennet… In our son's Town House. How do you feel?"

Mrs. Bennet smiled at her husband. They had been provided with the "parents" suite, more an apartment than a room. And since being the only living parents it had been made very clear that it would stay theirs till the end…

Having entered a rich a famous family was an exciting change Mrs. Bennet reveled in.

"I'm feeling quite well, Mr. Bennet and even if I'm tired I'm very satisfied to be here." She sighed. "I hope we'll soon have good news from d'Arcy."

Mr. Bennet nodded. The last news they had got from him were good. They would know more when Elizabeth came back.

She would probably come back alone since Jane had said that, if possible, she would stay at her husband's side even if he was still unconscious.

It was at those little details that you knew that your daughter was now an other man's companion.

He too sighed. He was tired. Even weary in all those parts of his body he had forgotten for a long time. But nevertheless, it had been a great experience.

He had loved the journey from Pemberley. He had loved the comradeship with his son and was sure that the relation he and Fitzwilliam had built together would last.

Mrs. Bennet looked at her husband.

"Shall we wait?"

He shook his head.

"No, let's go to bed, I spoke with Elizabeth before they went to the Palace. If the she has bad news she'll wake us up immediately. But it's much more probable that we'll have the news –good news– tomorrow morning for the breakfast." He shrugged. "Good or bad, it won't change if we stay up. And I have complete faith in Jane. She was so sure that he would be well that not believing that she's right would look like treason."

He began to undress.

"Tomorrow we'll know better…"

* * *

"Well, you look good," said Elizabeth after having seen her 'Aunt' going through her little dance with d'Arcy.

They both had been all politeness but the barbs exchanged had been numerous and well aimed.

She was still wondering who had won but since Jane never lost her satisfied smile she guessed that it all went as Geoffrey wanted.

Clearly her sister had been briefed by her husband since she had never seemed surprised by the confrontation that took place between her aunt and husband.

After a few minutes said aunt pleaded fatigue to go back to the apartment the palace staff had offered her.

"I hide all my broken bones," answered Geoffrey. "I'll do my best to look as normal as possible."

He glanced at his wife.

"I believe I was able to convince my wife to stay with me here. I know I'm not as interesting as usual but I do need her at my side." He looked at Jane and they both exchanged loving smiles. "I promise I will treat her with all due respect."

Elizabeth hid a knowing smile.

In his actual fix he had probably no choice but she could already notice that most of the colors worn by her sister in satisfied spouse mode were back.

Holding hand was apparently enough to smother all remnants of her black mood.  
Thank God it would not only be her husband's hand she would be able to held tonight.

* * *

"What do you mean: 'do with him'? He wears the name of Darcy and he's my half brother and that's it!"

Richard Fitzwilliam sighed and stood up.

"He's a little weasel who lives at your expense, he plays your role, he will be the doom of the family!"

Fitzwilliam Darcy slowly turned around and looked his cousin in the eyes.

"He's my brother, Richard. I don't like it but it is the truth. Because of our father he never had what was his due. I won't condemn him for what has happened. He had reason to be as he is. He should have had a part of the Darcy fortune, it was his right and because of my father's decision he was condemned to live the life of a commoner…"

"He got strictly the same as you had, Fitzwilliam. He could have been an honest and hard-working member of the family. He chose to be a parasite and a rake! It's not your fault; it's his choices that alienated everybody around him."

"Had he been known as a Darcy, he would probably had found a good party and…"

Richard Fitzwilliam stepped toward his cousin and took him by the shoulders.

"I heard him using your voice while he spoke to his image in the mirror. Fitz, he is planning something and I'm sure you're no longer alive in the future he's trying to built. He's the soul of an enraged dog, Fitz, you cannot believe he's trustworthy."

Fitzwilliam Darcy shook his head.

"I know he's not trustworthy, Richard! I have seen him using my name to seduce all kind of girls around Cambridge. The only reason I don't have recognized the bastards he produced while at the university was because I couldn't accept that the Darcy name could have been born by strangers…"

He turned and looked again in the dark street where she should have been coming back for a long time.

_What is happening? Where is she? Why hasn't she sent a message_?

He had problems to concentrate.

Richard first shook his head and then nodded.

There was nothing to be done with Fitzwilliam in that mood. He would come back another time.

"I go to bed, Fitz. We'll speak again tomorrow when you're ready to listen."

* * *

Elizabeth looked at the clock and made a face.

Knowing her husband she could very well imagine him glued to his study window and scrutinizing the darkness.

"I'm sorry, Jane, but I must go home. He will be worried…"

Jane woke up out of her daydream.

"Of course, dear, I'm sorry to have held you back…"

Anne looked up and smiled at the sisters.

"Let me accompany you… It has been a while since I haven't seen Fitzwilliam, he will be quite surprised."

Elizabeth looked surprised.

"And what of your mother?"

Anne shrugged her shoulders.

"She's quite satisfied with the palace accommodations our 'parentage' with this gentleman got us yesterday… I believe she's quite pleased with her status at the palace."

She looked at the clock.

"She's probably asleep now. She doesn't show it –_she would rather die_– but she's an old woman and these last days have been taxing for her." She smiled at Elizabeth. "Not to speak about those little fights she insists to wage every now and then."

Elizabeth tried to smile apologetically.

"Sorry about that… But she…"

"…Grates on your nerves," finished Anne. "I know, she does have that effect on most people I know." She smothered a smile while looking at d'Arcy and Jane. "It even happens to me from time to time…"

She stood up, kissed Jane who was very willing to treat her as another sister and smiled at d'Arcy.

"We are gone… I'll be back tomorrow."

"Don't hurry, I will be able to put up with her for a few hours. Having heard everything she had to say while sitting at my side, she won't be able to surprise me for quite a long time."

Anne shrugged.

"I warned her but she wouldn't listen…"

"You won't repeat it please, but she's probably right, I need her. So she should be able to survive…"

He smiled at Elizabeth.

"I hope to see you tomorrow morning, sister. I'm sure I'll need you to convince my wife to leave my side to do a few trivial things like eating…"

"I'll be here as soon as possible…"

"A few hours after dawn would be perfect," said Jane. "I'm rather tired and I'm not sure I'll be up very early…"

Elizabeth smiled at her sister and went to hug her.

"I do know, sister," whispered she. "And I remember quite well that you're never the first one to stand up. I won't be too early. Promise…"

They kissed a last time and then Anne and Elizabeth were walking together toward the courtyard where their carriage was waiting.

"Sorry about my mother, cousin, be sure that I don't share her antipathy. I'm even rather satisfied that he found finally the courage to propose to you again. I feared he would never do it again…"

Elizabeth looked surprised.

"You knew? I mean about his first proposal…"

Anne nodded.

"I knew the same evening. I'm rather well informed about what happens in Rosings. I regretted that you refused him. I knew that you and he would be perfectly matched. I was scared that he would withdraw into himself. He's not the most confident man on earth you know?"

Elizabeth couldn't help but giggle.

"I know, Anne, I know. But dear cousin d'Arcy forced him out of his sulking and he asked for my hand the same evening he heard about the invasion. And our betrothal was probably the best thing that could happen to the family. Even my relations with my mother were drastically enhanced. Until recently I was rather unhappy with her. But it seems that, with time and if they get what they want, they can improve…"

Anne nodded but also made a face.

"I hope you're right but I fear my mother won't ever get what she wanted…" She looked at Elizabeth. "You don't plan to die in the near future, do you?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"No, I fear I do plan to live a long and happy live at my husband's side…"

Anne raised her eye brows.

"So you see, she won't get what she wants… The only solution will be to convince her to look for something else which would satisfy her…"

Elizabeth frowned at her new cousin.

"And you have something in mind?"

"Of course," answered Anne. "Of course… If you're interested we could speak about it while going to Grovesnor Street, shall we?"

"We shall," agreed Elizabeth. "We shall…"

* * *

"Won't you come and lie at my side?"

Jane looked at him wide eyed.

"You're not well, I…"

"I'm only crushed in little pieces that are slowly mending, that's all. Even if I'm rather motionless for the time being I would like very much to have you at my side this night. It won't be as usual but just having you sleeping at my side will be everything I dreamed of these last days."

He smiled at her.

"Won't you come, dear?"

She nodded and slipped out of her dress. A d'Arcy fashion dress she had chosen just for that.

Soon they were asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

"You _were_ worried!"

"Of course I was," protested Darcy. "You were gone _three_ hours. I'm waiting for you since ten o'clock!"

She couldn't help but laugh.

"We had to go and come back, dear! And even Jane needed more than five minutes to awake her husband…"

"And is he awake?"

"Yes, it happened as she had foretold it. She came and woke her sleeping Prince and, as I would have bet, he refused to let her go… I suppose they are now sleeping in each other's arms."

Darcy nodded before smiling at her.

"That's a good idea we should copy immediately," his smile became a grin. "And I'm not quite sure that I'm going to let you sleep for quite a long time…"

She pouted at him.

"We'll see if you have the skill to wake me, husband," teased she. "But before I must warn you that before trying that you'll have a last obligation."

"Have I? I'm not so s…"

"Yes you have, dear, your cousin Anne is waiting outside your study…"

Fitzwilliam felt his mouth open.

"Anne? With Aunt Catherine?"

"Alone, dear, she accompanied me. She and her mother are guests at the Palace and she wanted to speak with you. She'll stay with us this night and we will both go back to the Palace tomorrow morning…"

She saw him make a face.

"Not early morning, dear. Jane has no desire to see me before eleven o'clock! So we'll have ample time to rest if you're able to keep your promise."

He accepted her challenge while going to the door.

"Anne, dear, what a pleasure to see you…"

Anne smiled at him and soon they were embracing.

Elizabeth winked at her husband and smiled at Anne.

"I'm gone…" She looked at Fitzwilliam. "Take your time but don't be too late, I'm not sure I'll be able to stay awake for a very long time…"

"I won't hold him very long said Anne, not more than an hour…"

And Elizabeth was quite unsure if it was a joke or a threat.

* * *

"Miss Elizabeth…"

Lizzie turned around to look at Wickham's battered face.

"Mrs. Darcy now, Mr. Darcy," said she without even thinking about it. "I'm you brother's wife now, as you know quite well…"

He nodded.

"Indeed I know, it was just that it escaped me for a few seconds…"

"No it didn't, _dear _brother. You did it on purpose as everything else you do. It was an easy way for you to convey that we were 'friends' a few months ago…"

He sighed.

"I've no secret for you it seems…"

She shook her head.

"No you don't, _dear_ brother. And what I don't know, I suspect!"

All blood vanished from Wickham's face.

"What do you mean, Elizabeth?"

She looked him in the eyes.

"I mean that if I know that you are a rake and a crook and probably even a thief, I only suspect that it was you who gave the key to Pemberley's secret passage to the goons who tried to kill Jane. Some suspicious part of me is even inferring that it was you behind the order to kill my sister…" Her eyes became hard as flint. "Had I the slightest proof about it, I would kill you here on the spot!"

He couldn't help but smile.

"I doubt you could do such a thing, Elizabeth…"

She smiled back.

"The day I have proof, I promise you, your doubts will disappear in the blink of an eye…"

She pointed a finger toward Wickham.

"Don't make the mistake to underestimate me, Wickham, I'm not Jane and I would not have the least scruple to end your career the second I know you are behind the assassination attempt on her!"

Before he could say something she interrupted him.

"And don't ever call me Elizabeth again, _dear_ brother! I'm Mrs. Darcy for you!"

She turned around and continued toward the room she shared with her husband.

She never looked back.

* * *

Richard Fitzwilliam couldn't help but smile.

He liked his new cousin. He liked her very much indeed!

Slowly he disappeared into the shadows to be sure that Wickham couldn't see that he was there.

* * *

A few seconds later he came out of the niche where he had hid and never saw the green eyes who had been looking at the whole scene.  
Maureen who had, at d'Arcy's invitation, accompanied Elizabeth and Anne couldn't help but smile. So this was the man who was behind the assassination attempt.

She would never again forget his features and the very day d'Arcy gave her the signal she would do what had to be done.

With quite an amount of satisfaction…

* * *

"Anne! What a pleasure to see you out of the supervision of your mother." He looked past her. "And without a proper chaperone, how odd…"

Anne smiled at him and came nearer to embrace him.

"I've decided that I needed no chaperone to go visit a married cousin of mine…"

He hugged her and chuckled.

"There are married men who don't stop at those little details."

"There are indeed, dear cousin, but one Fitzwilliam Darcy will never be one of those."

He nodded and invited her to sit.

"Why are you in London? I know your mother prefers Bath and at this period of the year Rosings is at its highest beauty…"

"Officially," answered Anne, "we have been expelled from Rosings!"

"Expelled from Rosings? Officially?"

Anne nodded.

"Indeed. Our cousin d'Arcy gave us order to immediately vacate Rosings. It seems he was rather angered with Mama spying on his troops and sending a report to the Crown Prince."

Fitzwilliam frowned. He had witnessed a lot of his cousin's actions. He had never shown himself to be petty or mean…

Anne saw her cousin's doubts and soon explained.

"In fact, I asked him to do it. I needed a reason to go to London with Mama…"

"You asked him?" repeated Fitzwilliam rather flabbergasted. "Why vacate Rosings?"

Anne sighed.

"Because it was easier for me to establish new relations with Mama outside of her own territory! You know she doesn't like the de Bourgh town house and since we never stayed there, there was only a minimal staff. Now the house is properly staffed and I did all the hiring…"

"I see," said Darcy. "And what is happening meanwhile in Rosings?"

Anne smiled at her cousin. She's always liked his fine smart mind. She'd also liked quite a lot of everything else but since he didn't like anything in her she had refused to walk that path. And Elizabeth was much better matched to him. And she was already sure to be pregnant. That's a gift she would never have given him.

"D'Arcy's steward is firing a lot a faithful staff," said she with sparkling eyes. "They go with a princely compensation but they go! Those who are hired to replace them have my blessing."

Darcy whistled slightly.

"Oh my, oh my… One could speak of a family coup, there…"

"One could but one wouldn't since those things aren't said!"

"And how does she take it?"

Anne shrugged.

"She's her old self, you know! Pushing her out of her throne has not been easy and has not been easily accepted. The fact that she now occupies the Crown Prince's suite at the Palace has helped to alleviate the blow but she's not at all happy with what has happened…"

She sniffed.

"From time to time we need to 're-discuss' the new realities of our collaboration."

"Sorry about that…"

Anne shook her head and tried a weak smile.

"No reason to be sorry, Fitzwilliam, it's my fault, too long have I let her govern my life…"

"She's your mother…"

"Yes, but I let her become my jailer and that's not how it should been. My emancipation was a little more difficult than some other." She sighed. "But it was necessary for me and I should have done it a lot earlier. It would have destroyed once and for all her daydream about you loving and marrying me…"

"I… You…" said Darcy while frowning. "Does that mean that…"

"I would have said 'yes' had you asked?" continued Anne. "Of course I would had, Fitzwilliam. How could I not? I know you for a long time and I remember very well how gorgeous you are when you smile…" Her smile disappeared. "But I'm sure I wouldn't have make you smile, Fitzwilliam. I'm sure that I'm going to die in childbed and I'm not ready to die and the only way to prevent such things is to abstain! And you would have been very very unhappy, Fitzwilliam. Now you're very happy and I'm happier than ever before…"

He looked her in the eyes.

"But not happy…"

She nodded and said nothing for a while. What could she say that wouldn't hurt him? What?


	46. London Long Night

A few conversations going on...

* * *

**Chapter forty six: London long night**

* * *

**London. Tuesday the eighth September. Night.**

* * *

"Charles… You're late, we were quite despairing being able to see you today…"

Charles looked at his elder sister and made no show of showing the least pleasure.

"I don't remember having given you the authorization to come down to Town, have I? Why are you here?"

That pushed Louisa and Caroline to look at each other.

Clearly their brother had not yet surmounted the little anger he had conceived against them.

"The Darcys and the Bennets decided to go to Town and they graciously invited us to use their escort to travel safely…" explained Louisa who had been chosen to speak because they believed that she would less anger their brother.

Brother who snorted.

"Invited you?" He chuckled. "I'm quite sure it's you who forced yourself on them. I know Darcy and I know Elizabeth, if there are people they want less at their side than you, I don't know them yet…"

The sisters looked once more at each other.

Yes Charles was still very angry with them.

"Charles," tried Caroline. "You can't…"

He interrupted her immediately.

"I can what I want! I'm the master of the Bingley Fortune! You live at my expense and therefore I decide where you live! And last time I spoke to you, I made it very clear that I wanted you in Lancaster shire till the end of time!"

Louisa stepped forward.

"You can't be serious, Charles, we are your sisters…"

He turned to look at her.

"I can't be serious?" He shook his head. "Louisa, for years I dragged you everywhere, I gave you everything you wanted, I showered on you with every gift I found in every shop I encountered. I even accepted Caroline's unacceptable behavior in Darcy's vicinity!"

He looked towards the heavens.

"I gave you everything because I loved you and you, you thanked me by letting me look as if I had scorned the woman I loved…"

Louisa took advantage of the little loll in Charles diatribe.

"We didn't know…"

He was immediately at her throat.

"Yes you knew!" shouted he. "Don't lie to me. You knew I loved her and you did everything in your power to separate us! Just because you wanted me to stay free for Georgiana Darcy!"

He burst out in tears.

"I loved you and you, you just looked at me as a mean for your little marriage games."

He inhaled deeply, get rid of his tears and looked at his sisters.

"It's late; I won't throw you out in the streets of London at this time of the night. I suppose you've already taken possession of your old rooms. I'll grant you two days in London and then I'll put you back into your carriage direction Lancaster shire."

His eyes became almost black.

"You can decide to stay in London but then I'll cut all allowances for you both and ask our attorney to hand Caroline's dowry to her in order to give her the means to live a few years in her old fashion."

He sighed.

"I loved you, sisters, I really did. I would have given you everything that was in my possession and as a counterpart I only asked for being loved in return. I now know that you were not only unable to give me what I lusted for but that you are such selfish creatures as to be unable to think of something else than yourself." He stopped and looked at them. "I don't hate you because it is a feeling I'm unable to foster. But I do despise you and I pity what you became. You had everything to be happy and loved. You just threw that away to get at my best friend's estate and fortune…" He chuckled. "Let's just be known that I, Charles Bingley have done better than Papa. I'm now, thanks to our old family friend Edward Gardiner and to his connections to d'Arcy, one of the richest and most interesting bachelors of all Europe." He showed himself to his sisters, even turned around. "I'm probably worth thirty thousand a year, now. And it's increasing by the day!"

His smile disappeared.

"The only problem is that I had to pay that fortune with the woman I loved! And that, that, sisters, I won't forget very soon!"

He turned and quitted the parlor letting two very shaken sisters behind him.

* * *

He was running up the stairs when Hurst appeared in front of him.

"Could we speak, Charles?"

Charles shook his head.

"I've said all that was necessary to my dear sisters. I have nothing more to say."

"But you have to listen, Charles… It is in your own interest…"

Charles snorted.

"My interest, Walter, my interest? Since when does my family be concerned in my interest?"

Mr. Hurst came nearer and looked him in the eye.

"Since what you have lost is destroying you, Charles. You can't get it back, but you can still heal if you find in you the strength to listen…"

Charles sighed.

"Listen to what? To my sisters' lies?"

"No," answered Hurst. "To the truth of the Bingley family's curse…"

* * *

Five minutes later they were sitting in Charles study with nothing but tea cups near them.

"You are the youngest Bingley and you never got told that part of your family story. It doesn't excuse what my wife and her sister did to you but it will give you a chance to understand why they are so selfish…"

Charles half closed his eyes.

"How do you know?"

"Your father told me. He asked me never to let your sisters know that I was in the confidence. But he asked me to tell you if one day the family runs the risk to be shattered again…"

"Again?"

Hurst nodded and inhaled noisily. He was in poor health and his lungs were not the best for a one and forty old man.

"Your father is not the only child he always pretended to be. He had siblings but he had problems with his father and his siblings chose to support the father against him. So he burnt all bridges with his family and went away to the United Kingdom where he made a great fortune."

Charles anger was replaced by curiosity.

He had always believed his father when he spoke of being an only child whose father had died when he was a teenager. Why would his father lie to him?

"Where did he come from?"

"Your family has its roots in Ireland. Conamara if I remember well and they don't call themselves Bingley. They are or were, I don't know for sure, Ballys. He pronounced it in a weird way so I can't be sure. But when he spoke to me about it, they still lived there and were quite numerous…"

Hurst sipped at his tea.

"He always regretted never having found the courage to go back. And he always regretted not having found the means to speak to you about your ancestors. And he asked me to do everything in my power to avoid another breach in his family."

He exhaled heavily.

"He was a smart and kind man, your dad, Charles. He knew that with Caroline being the mirror image of his wife you and her would, at some time in the future, clash and go at each other's throats. He couldn't bear it and he asked me to be there as your guardian."

He laughed.

It was more mockery than joy.

"Look at me, Charles, could you believe that at one time in my life I was sober enough to get the role of a guardian?"

He shrugged.

"But it is a fact that your father came to me and asked it of me. I was to avoid another breach in your family. And, if possible, I was to get you to mend the breach already existing."

Hurst smiled at his young brother in law.

"You could do it, you know! Nobody looking at you will be tempted to deny that you have Irish blood in your veins and if Louisa has the black hair of your mother and father, you, on the other side, as does Caroline, have the red hair of your grandmother. They could accept you as one of their own. They could accept you as a family member coming to retie the broken links to your Irish cousins."

Once more he sighed.

"Your father was a nice man and he was happy in marriage even if his wife was a harpy for everybody outside the family." He sipped again. "She brought a big dowry –which was of the same amount than Louisa's and Caroline's– and was always very important in your father's successes. But, she was not a kind woman and from what I saw, she was not a loving mom! She was a selfish lady who drilled her daughters to always seek a higher position in life. My little peerage was enough for Louisa and it got me the funds to go on with my empty life. Her mother had chosen to marry for love and had paid a big price for it in her own family. They didn't expel her but she was only accepted at her old home years after her marriage when it became clear that the Bingleys were becoming richer than the Bransons. She accepted to go back but there was very few loving feelings between her and the rest of the Bransons."

Charles looked up.

He had always been a loved and cherished grandson and never had he felt a problem between her mother and her parents.

But then she was never with him when he visited his grandparents.

"So you believe that's why Caroline and Louisa tampered with my love life?"

"In part, probably. They have that ugly little education of their mom who pushes them to always see what's interesting –_as in financial_– in a relationship and since Caroline was in love with Darcy she…"

Charles couldn't help but laugh.

"Caroline in love? That's a sentence I can't even imagine to be true. Caroline loves only herself and money and power. Nothing else…"

Hurst shook his head.

"Don't be too harsh with Caroline. She was really loving Darcy. Probably still do. She just couldn't understand why he always stayed so aloof with her. Maybe believed that it was his way of showing his feelings for her…"

Charles couldn't help but look at his brother with an unconvinced look in the eyes.

"Alright," agreed Hurst. "She probably knew that he was not interested in her. But since he was not interested in anybody else, she could continue to hope…"

"Until Elizabeth Bennet…"

Hurst agreed.

"Until Elizabeth Bennet… It was then that she saw that Darcy could react differently to the presence of a young lady. She saw it immediately and she did what she could to make her look inadequate for the Darcys." He sighed… "She failed!"

"But she didn't fail in separating Jane and me," growled Charles.

Hurst shook his head.

"Don't make her pay alone. She was indeed the leading force, but Louisa and Darcy were there too! And…" he looked Charles straight in the eye. "…In the end it was your doubts who lost that battle. Had you believed in your love, nobody could have separated you from Miss Bennet. All in all, if you are frank with yourself, _you_ did what had to be done to separate you from her."

Charles felt a point of anger coming up but soon he could only nod.

He had been the one who was gullible, the one who had been easily manipulated, the one who had done nothing to verify that what others were telling him was wrong or right. And knowing that, he had decided to punish himself for the awful manner he had behaved in this matter.

"It's behind us, Charles. Give yourself and your family a second chance. Don't build a second breach into your family's history. Do yourself a favor and accept that this affair with the Darcys and the Bennets has been an ugly business full of misunderstandings, betrayals and personal mistakes. We all made mistakes, we all betrayed someone and we all built our actions on misunderstandings. Is it worth it, Charles? Is it worth to lose your family because all members of said family were for a time wrong and misled? We can't be proud of what we did but we still have a choice here, Charles, we can let those wounds fester or we can try to heal together…"

He sipped a last time at his cup and stood up.

"What will it be, Charles? What will it be?"

* * *

_Indeed, Charles, what will it be_?

He was still sitting in his armchair an hour later. Thinking about himself and thinking about his family.

Yes his sisters had been ugly manipulative witches. Yes Darcy had played him all along to get himself out of harm's way.

Yes, yes and yes…

But if one looked at the whole of the picture there was always one player in the center of the game and that player was a certain Charles Bingley.

Charles Bingley, who was in love and, at the same time, unable to live up to his dream of perfect happiness.

Charles Bingley who, if he stopped blinding himself with his guilt, was only an immature puppy who looked at the world as if the world could be fair without him doing something to make it fair.

And the world could have been fair with him if he had only found inside himself the strength to wonder about what it really was he wanted.

He sighed and he stood up.

Yes, he was in love with Jane. Still was in fact, to his utter despair.

No, he hadn't been ready to marry her. In fact he hadn't been ready to marry at all. And facing that difficult choice he had been all too happy to get his sisters' help to chicken out of his dilemma.

They had manipulated him but he was so eager to be manipulated. He was so unready to become a man.

And now he felt that his loss had just done that to him. Make him a man able to look at his own future and knowing what he wanted.

Deep inside, he still wanted Jane but the hurt was fading and it was slowly placing itself in that marvelous place of his mind where he was still dreaming of being King, a romantic pirate or a successful admiral conquering the seven seas. He would cherish this memory as he cherished those others but now he knew that she was no longer his to get.

She was clearly happy with her French rogue. Who was just what he had ever dreamed to be. She was probably even happier than she would have been with him. Because d'Arcy had brought something out in Jane that a certain puppy Bingley would never even had sniffed.

He sighed and he felt himself relieved.

Yes he still loved her but she no longer needed him as she had needed him at a time she believed he could save her and her family.

And real love could only mean that he would be happy to see her happy even if it was at somebody else's side.

He wasn't happy. Not really. Not yet! But he was relieved to be able to think of her without feeling his heart being squeezed like a sponge.

He nodded and was surprised to be able to smile.

Perhaps there was healing.

Perhaps there was forgiveness.

Perhaps there was a future.


	47. London Lovers' Morning

The sun is rising on London...

* * *

**Chapter forty seven: London lovers' morning**

* * *

**London. Tuesday the eighth September. Morning.**

* * *

"Mr. Bennet what is happening between us?"

Edward Bennet sighed and looked at his wife lying at his side.

"Happening, Mrs. Bennet? I was not aware that one could forget such things. You seemed quite eager to remember the old moves last night… But if you need a little rehearsal, I can be of use…"

She hit him with the spare cushion.

"Stop teasing me, Mr. Bennet. I was not speaking of what we did last night, I was wondering at the 'why'?"

His smile became more tender.

"Do we need a 'why', Mrs. Bennet? If I remember well, we were quite close a few years ago and we didn't need a 'why', then…"

She nodded.

"Indeed but after ten years of indifference, I…"

He stopped her.

"It was never indifference, dear. It was numbness and after that forgetfulness. I just couldn't happen to remember the good memories and I was stuck with the other, bad ones…"

She turned her head and looked at him.

"And it's no more the case?"

He shook his head.

"No, seeing our daughters bound in happy marriages brought back the memories of our first years." He chuckled. "And I must admit that our daughters are quite as fiery as we were in our time. Each time I see one of them disappear with her husband it reminds me of our first year."

He shook his head.

"We did have a scandalous behavior!"

"Nobody complained if I remember well."

"Our neighbors were all polite people and the Hills liked us too much to complain." He nodded with force. "No, it is a definitive truth that we had a scandalous behavior!"

It was his wife's turn to laugh.

"You're right; I remember that day in July when we were invited at my sister's. I do believe we never arrived…"

He laughed out loud.

"There was this creek that Lizzy believes having discovered, if I remember well, wasn't it?"

She nodded while smiling.

"It was and the water was marvelously cool…"

"We should have undressed before jumping," added he. "We could still have been able to arrive before mid afternoon."

She huddled against him.

"I was just in the mood to jump… I couldn't help myself…"

"And, since you couldn't swim and the creek was much deeper than you thought, I could do nothing but jump in to save you…" He shook his head. "It was that day that I gave you your first swimming lesson, if I remember well…"

She laughed.

"And it was not a very fruitful lesson since I was often disturbed by your wandering hands…"

He winked at her.

"They weren't wandering, dear; they always found what they were looking for!"

"I thought so much," nodded she. "As you said, scandalous behavior!"

"But so much kind and fond memories…"

She agreed and kissed him.

* * *

"Mmmhhhhh…"

A kiss on her cheek brought a smile to her lips.

"You shouldn't move, you're injured…"

"How could I not try to move? I have my fabulously beautiful wife at my side and I haven't been granted even a little pleasure for the whole night!"

"You're injured and I won't take the risk to reopen old wounds by being reckless."

"There are no wounds to reopen. I just get crushed in the inside. Nothing to fear with wounds and scratches…"

She shot him a glance that should have been scolding but was only loving.

"You _were_ not crushed in the inside, you still are! How can it be that you spend eighteen months without even looking at a woman and that now you seem unable to find the patience in you to wait a week more…"

He made a face.

"It's you who woke me! I asked nothing! I would have stayed unconscious 'til the moment I was healed…"

She frowned and seemed concerned. He saw immediately the overture she was giving him.

"The doctors said that you could never wake up if we let you sleep too long…"

He turned his head to look at the wall. He couldn't let her see his little satisfied smile, now, could he? He went on with an audible whine in the voice.

"Why did you woke me then? To torture me with your beautiful body lying at my side and my longings not being taken into account! It would have been bet…"

He stopped whining when she bit him in the shoulder.

"Ouch…"

He immediately faced her making a face but his sparkling eyes destroying his whole show.

"If you can bit me, you could also do me a few favors…"

"You tried to influence me, you awful manipulator! I warned you to stop trying…"

"I did nothing of the sort!"

"You're a horrible liar!"

"I'm not, you're…"

She stopped his next lie with a kiss that took quite a long time to finish.

"I love you, my beautiful wife…"

"So do I, my manipulative husband…"

He sighed and passed his only working arm behind her shoulders and began to nibble at her ears.

She rolled back and shook her head.

"I said not before you're healed!"

"It will take at least a week, Jane! I can't possibly survive a week with you at my side and not… Doing something!"

She stood up and began dressing.

"You'll survive, I'm sure! And I won't take the risk to kill you just because you have those _longings_ while at my side!"

He made her his best puppy eyes.

"How could I not?"

She laughed and turned around in the hope that not seeing his eyes would help her to be firm and steadfast. He would probably get her cooperation before the end of the week. But not today!

If she cracked up the very first day she would lose all credibility as a steadfast wife.

If there was any left!

She literally ran out of the room. If she stayed a second more she knew she would be lost forever.

He looked at the door with quite a lot of satisfaction in his smile.

While pretending the contrary, he was not quite ready to go into active love making. Too many bones still not really healed. She was right they could kill him if they were too impetuous in their behavior. But he had to prepare the future. In two, three days it would be possible to take the risk and _then_ she would be just in the right mood.

* * *

"You were unquenchable tonight, love…"

Elizabeth purred into his shoulder.

"I had to make love to you… I just had…" whispered she. "I was thinking of Jane and her broken husband and I was imagining what a terrible challenge it would have been not to be able to do all I wanted to do. I knew that I wanted to make everything she couldn't."

She rolled herself on his chest and looked him in the eyes.

"Having you sound and able was such a feast I couldn't resist."

He smiled back.

"You just gave me a reason more to pray that my dear brother stays healing for a long time…"

She frowned.

"Think of Jane," scolded she. "It must be hell to be at the side of the man you love and to be unable to let your hand glide on his smooth chest, to let your finger play with his hair, to…"

While speaking she was just doing what she was describing.

He grabbed her hands and pulled her nearer.

"God, Lizzy, aren't you satisfied yet? I fear that I'm more than exhausted. I'll need a few hours sleep to be again an able lover…"

She grunted, turned over and stood up.

"Well, I'll let you sleep, then… I have a sister to visit and I'm quite sure that she was not able to exhaust her husband…"

He grasped her hand and pulled her back at his side.

Their lips found each other very quickly.

After a long moment, he sighed and let her go.

"I do love you, dear… How could I have been so foolish these months earlier in Meryton to let you go out of my life? I should have jumped you and kissed you and…"

She laughed and shook her head.

"It is as is should be! Alright, we had a difficult beginning but see what we came out of it? Never would I have thought to live such a blissful and satisfying life as a married woman!"

She tried to stand up but his hands wouldn't let her go.

"You should let me go, I have really a sister who's awaiting me."

"She won't be up yet, you could stay with me a little bit more…"

She shook her head.

"No way, if I stay it would be for a reason." She looked at him. "Are ready to do your duty?"

He sighed.

"I'm ready to try but I won't promise anything."

She rolled over, kissed noisily his navel and stood up for the second time.

"I'm on my way… I'll eat with Jane at the Palace. I'm ravenous and I'm quite in the mood to empty one or two of those marvelous Palace Morning Pastries Platters." She slipped in her dressing gown and walk toward their bath room.

"Try to sleep a few hours, oh you poor exhausted male; I'll be back for dinner…"

* * *

"They are in London…"

Mr. Gardiner looked up from his second report of the day.

"Who's in London?"

"The Bennet tribe," answered Mrs. Gardiner. "They arrived yesterday and are at Darcy's townhouse."

"How do you know? They already sent a cord?"

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head while a great smile blossomed on her face.

"I got a very special letter from our nieces."

Mr. Gardiner frowned. Why would his nieces send a very special letter? And which nieces?

"Whom are you speaking of?"

"The letter is signed Miss Bennet but I do believe it is a community work…"

"Mary, Kitty and Lydia," guessed Mr. Gardiner.

"The same ones," agreed Mrs. Gardiner.

"And they want you to organize a meeting including Kitty and Charles?"

This time it was Mrs. Gardiner's turn to look surprised.

"Not in these words but it looks like what they are asking me. Mary has a rather pompous style but it really looks like they would like me to make such a meeting happen accidentally…"

Mr. Gardiner sniffed loudly.

"Well it seems our suspicions were right. There's another one of our nieces who find young Bingley at her liking."

"Kitty, as I suspected it…"

Mr. Gardiner nodded slowly.

"And I already hinted him in that very direction…"

Mrs. Gardiner couldn't help but smile.

"I was not aware that the Company was also intruding in the matchmaking business…"

"It does not, but I do," corrected Mr. Gardiner. "Charles is not like his father. He's a man who loves to be with people, and who loves to be in company of funny companions. He needs to come out of his depression."

"The Company will lose a very willing worker…"

Mr. Gardiner shook his head.

"The Company will lose Charles if he doesn't very soon find another reason to live for. Making money is not a goal worth having. Earning money to shower it on his family that is a goal worth having… It's really time he forgets his heart ache and goes on with his life."

He looked at his wife.

"How will we proceed?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know yet. I suppose he will be informed of their arrival soon enough. The letter hints at the arrival of the Bingley sisters in the convoy. I'm not sure how he will react to that part of the newcomers…"

Mr. Gardiner made a grimace.

"Badly, I fear. He's not yet at a stage where he would be willing to forgive what their interference produced. In his actual mood, he could already have cast them off in an inn…"

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head.

"Not our Charles, dear. A common man would have behaved in such a manner. Not Charles. He's, at his heart, a very kind man and even if he is hurt, he won't do such an awful thing to his sisters. Even if they are both ugly shrews he still loves them. I'm quite sure he gave them a few days before sending them back." She scoffed very unladylike. "They won't like it and they will reprove his 'unkindness' but they will be on their way back north in less than a week, I could bet on it…"

Mr. Gardiner closed his file and bit his lips.

"We could invite them both to dinner, couldn't we?"

"We could," agreed Mrs. Gardiner. "But at such a short notice we risk Charles' refusal."

"Yes, he could have planned something…"

He snorted.

"I could invite him to come with me this afternoon. We have a lot of difficult decisions to make and I know he prefers a familial ambiance when important matters are to be discussed."

He nodded.

"Let's say we both arrive for lunch at half past one?"

Mrs. Gardiner agreed.

"I'll do my best to have one or more nieces present."

"Why not Kitty alone?"

Mrs. Gardiner smiled at her husband.

"As I said it seems to be a group work. I suppose they will want to finish it together but I will let them the choice. Perhaps it will only be Kitty… They'll decide!"

* * *

"Come now, Kitty, it's your move. We would only stand in your way…"

Mary, as often, came to her sister's help.

"She's nervous, we should accompany her as she's asking us…"

"What for, by Jove," protested Lydia. "I see no reason to be there. She wants to have him, it's her move and we can do nothing to help her."

"Yes, we can," said Mary. "We can show Charles that the silly sister and the boring sister are no longer either silly or boring. We wouldn't want him to bolt out of a relation with Kitty because he's not happy with us…"

"Then we should go with Mama," grumbled Lydia. "She was probably the first reason he dumped Jane!"

"No she wasn't," said Kitty. "He was manipulated by his sisters and Darcy…"

Lydia frowned.

"His sisters I can understand, I never could stand those female peacocks. But Darcy? Why would he?"

"I suspect that he was already in love with Lizzy and he couldn't stand the idea of seeing her at Jane and Charles' side…"

Lydia made a face.

"And Charles knows?"

Kitty agreed by nodding her head.

"Darcy confessed. He was quite unhappy with Fitzwilliam. That's why he went away to London with Uncle Gardiner."

"Ouch," said Lydia. "Yes, that explains quite a lot. I'm sure it must have played a role in his departure to London. But let's not forget that he just learned that d'Arcy was courting Jane. That also must have been in his mind when he chose to go South."

She looked at Kitty.

"Alright, we are with you! And I wouldn't bet a dime on his chances to escape his fate with all of us on the frontline."


	48. London Encounter of the difficult kind

Noon in London...

* * *

**Chapter forty eight: London Encounter of the difficult kind**

* * *

**London. Tuesday the eighth September. Noon.**

* * *

"They are coming…" said Lydia from the window. "Your Charles and Uncle Gardiner."

Kitty began, for the thousand's time to look at her image in the mirror. Her hands were moving without her knowledge when Mary came behind her and get hold of them.

""Stop it, Kitty. You can't reasonably do anything more! Fretting and smoothing your _not_ pleated dress won't help! Just relax…"

Kitty turned around and looked her sister in the eye.

"What if…"

"My God," cried Lydia while coming towards them. "Just stop imagining the worst events and do have some faith in yourself!"

She looked at her sister and for the thousands time approved and congratulated herself.

Yes, the result was worth all –_and they have been quite humongous in her memory_– the efforts of the morning.

Kitty was beautifully attired and was glowing from the inside like never before.

A stroke of envy came to her and she sighed. She couldn't help it but seeing Kitty fretting and blushing and stuttering was inducing in her a spike of jealousy.

She played the cool thinker but in truth she was as romantically inclined as all her sisters. Even Mary who had shown this very morning quite a few facets she would never had suspected her of having.

But the result was there before her eyes.

Kitty was… Breathtaking. Not on the par with Jane's natural beauty but with everything she could bring and that were hers.

Aunt Gardiner had been right, it would have brought nothing to try to transform Kitty in Jane. They had just transformed Kitty in Kitty and the result was more than satisfying.

"You're beautiful, Kitty. This dress Georgiana chose for you is a real marvel. It enhances everything you are. I would never have thought that possible. A shame she couldn't come to Town with us. I would have loved to let her help us change our wardrobe. That girl is a genius." She shook her head. "I'm beginning to be very annoyed with our brother George and not only because he tried to have Jane, Lizzy and Georgie killed…"

Mary looked at her and made a face.

"There's no proof there…"

"I don't need proof to know that he was behind the whole scheme. He is a yob and a rake. Now that I'm over my idiotic infatuation, I can analyze everything he's done while we were together and he comes out with a very bad image. _That_ Darcy is not a pleasant Darcy, he has the same predatory instincts than Geoffrey without the least trace of chivalrous behavior. He would never hesitate to use even the ugliest means to get what he wants… In his behavior, he reminds me of a rat…"

Mary shook her head.

"Fitzwilliam won't take a risk with his family's name. He will hush everything. Even the attempt against his wife…"

Lydia snorted.

"But Geoffrey won't! First thing I do when we have an occasion to let Charles and Kitty alone…"

"You'll let us alone?" cried Kitty. "But you can't! You're here to be my chaperones!"

Lydia looked at the heavens.

"We are here to give you the opportunity to clear things with Charles. If we stay to chaperonize you, he'll never make even the littlest move. I know his genre. All smiles and confidence when it is not important and invisible when it is! We will ask Emma and Alicia to go with you in the park. It should be enough to guarantee the seemliness of your encounter while giving you a real liberty to speak. If we come with you, he'll bolt out, I'm sure!"

Kitty made a face. She was becoming more and more fretful. Had she had a choice she would have fled without looking back.

There was a knock at the door.

"That's it, Kitty," said Lydia with an encouraging smile. "He's all yours to conquer!"

* * *

He had not been surprised.

He had known that she would be here. Mr. Gardiner's insistence had told him so much and, even if he had felt like chickening out, he decided that he had chickened out enough for a whole life.

So he went along playing his role of the unknowing while knowing very well where he was going.

He knew, in a geographic sense at least.

For the rest, he would see what happened.

"Charles," said Mrs. Gardiner. "You could come? I'm so pleased…"

Mrs. Gardiner had become these last days half great sister half young mother. Whenever he had felt like no longer able to endure being alone, he had invited himself at the Gardiner's.

And each time he had been welcome and surrounded.

"We have quite a lot of decisions to make and we always work better that sort of thing without interference from the staff. Your husband's study has become our second office…"

She smiled at him.

"And this house your second home I hope…"

He smiled back.

"My only home, Mrs. Gardiner. My town house is no home just an accommodation where I go when I have no other choice."

She nodded.

"But your sisters are back in town, I heard, they could make it again into a home, couldn't they?"

He shook his head and the shadow of a smile glided over his lips.

"I'm no longer in good terms with my sisters, Mrs. Gardiner. They deceived me and I'm very disappointed with the way they did it. It will be some time before I'm again able to consider them with good will and brotherly love. It will need more than them to give me a home…"

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head and hugged the young man.

"Don't worry, time heals all wounds…"

"Some kill you," answered he.

"Only if you let them," whispered Mrs. Gardiner. "Where's will, there's hope!"

She pulled him toward the dining room.

"Come, everything's ready…"

* * *

They had curtsied and he had bowed.

Then Mrs. Gardiner had invited them to take the place they wanted and he chose to sit between Emma and Miss Catherine.

He saw at her smile that his choice was welcome.

They weren't sitting for more than two minutes when they both began to speak together.

They both apologized at the same time and laughed together.

He made a gesture inviting her to speak.

She acknowledged his invitation with a smile and a blush before following it.

"How's London, Mr. Bingley?"

He sighed.

"Not as it was when I was young and foolish but much better than it could have been in the present circumstances."

He stopped for a few seconds before going on with a topic that was probably much more to her liking.

"I'm still adjusting to my new occupations, Miss Catherine. I'm discovering so much different things that every day brings new surprises."

"Good surprises?"

"Not always… Dealing with people is a difficult endeavor and I'm not quite sure that I'm the best man for the job Mr. Gardiner entrusted me…"

Kitty smiled at him.

"I'm sure Uncle Gardiner couldn't have found a better suited man, Mr. Bingley. If I remember well you are Charm personified."

He sighed and made a face.

"No longer I fear," answered he. "There were a few incidents that made me rethink my position…"

Kitty frowned and shook her head.

"I don't see why you should go on flogging yourself for something you didn't do…"

"Something I didn't do?" This time he looked at her with surprise in his eyes.

She nodded with force.

"Indeed, something you didn't do…"

"But it was me who stopped seeing your sister, nobody else. Of _that_ awful behavior, I am alone the guilty party."

Kitty made a noncommittal gesture.

"They pushed you to think Jane was not interested in you. That she was only interested in your money…"

He frowned and raked his hair with his right hand.

"I should have asked her myself, not assume that Caroline was saying the truth. I knew that she had her own agenda and that she was following her own purpose. I have known it for years and I just chose to play dumb."

He grimaced and shook his head.

"No I'm the only one responsible even if those others seem to have played a role in my decision. It was just easier for me to believe them than to accept to look my fears into the eye…"

Kitty frowned. She would never had believed that her first 'private' conversation with Charles Bingley would be such as this one.

"And what were your fears?"

He smiled.

"Not 'were', Miss Catherine. My fears are still there and still _very_ real…"

_Ooh_… mimicked Kitty who was not really able to decide if she was liking what was just happening.

Yes she wanted to speak with Charles Bingley. Yes she wanted to give him a few hints about what she was feeling. But was what was just happening something she could master?

Could she listen to the man she loved speaking of his fears?

_Why not? If he trusts me enough to speak of them, I'll gladly listen to them_.

He sighed.

"It's not easy," said he finally. "When I accepted to listen to my sisters and Darcy it was not because I believed them right. It was because I hoped them right!"

Kitty frowned.

"How so…"

"Because it was giving me a chance to hide from a most needed decision. I know now that it bought myself time in order to stay for a little longer in the safe irresponsibility of the late childhood I was so fond of."

She let her hand covers his. It was perhaps not totally seemly but then the others around the table were making such great efforts looking somewhere else, it would have been foolish not to use the opportunity.

"We all stay children, somewhere deep within ourselves," said she.

He nodded.

"That's true, but at one time in your life, even if you feel still like a child you must accept a little part of what it means to be an adult."

He sighed once more.

"I just couldn't," whispered he. "I know now that I refused to go to Jane because I was afraid of what it would mean for me and my future to behave like a grown man…"

He looked at her and there was the hint of a smile on his face.

"I was unable to chose between what I knew was a fun life and what I hoped would be one. Finally I chose what I knew and refused what I only hoped to be better…"

He looked at her but is eyes were unfocused and he was probably speaking more to himself than to her.

"I wouldn't have believed it but the spoiled child in me prevented the man I wanted to be to take the overhand…"

"And do you regret?" asked Kitty.

He shook his head.

"On a multitude of levels, it is yes; but if I'm frank, I can't be sure! I just discovered how it happened and that I did it; so it is something a part of me wanted… While another part of me –_the part who was in love with Jane_– wanted me to become a man. Neither one won but while deciding too much time was lost…"

Kitty squeezed kindly his hand.

"Was it really lost? It seems to me that you took the time to think about everything that happened and that you came to conclusions, didn't you?"

He nodded.

"You're right but the time was lost nevertheless since my hesitations opened the way to d'Arcy to heal the broken heart of the woman I loved…"

Kitty who had been quite sad by Charles words didn't miss the 'loved' in Charles last words.

"Loved?"

He looked her in the eye and nodded.

"Loved, indeed! I still have her in high esteem, but I now know that there's no sense in going on loving her. She belongs to another man and what's even more definitive, she loves that other man. And even if I had the hope of, perhaps, seeing her freed in a very near future, I'm now aware that even if it had happened –_which thanks to God, didn't_– I wouldn't have been her choice to replace him. I failed her and even if I'm very happy that she found another love to overcome the deception I caused, a part of me cries at having lost her…"

Kitty smiled at him.

"That doesn't mean you'll go to fail every woman you'll come to love…"

He inhaled and shot a glance at the rest of the people sharing the meal with them. Not one –_not one– _was looking at them. They were all speaking with each other while he and Kitty seemed to be lost in a bubble out of time and space…

He smiled at their perfect education.

He turned toward Kitty and the essence of his smile changed.

She saw it immediately.

"When was it, Miss Catherine that you began to look at me differently?"

She smiled back while shaking her head.

"I never looked at you differently, Mr. Bingley. The first second I saw you, I had no doubt that you were the most dashing and charming gentleman I would ever encounter."

He bit his lips.

"And you just let it slip?"

"I let nothing slip, Mr. Bingley!" said Kitty with force. "But you must understand that there was no doubt that you were very interested in my sister! And, Mr. Bingley she was visibly interested in you. And by the way she looked at said Charles Bingley I was quite sure that it was serious for her. That closed the affair for me. What would you have thought of a sister who, knowing that her sister was in love, would have tried to insert herself between her and the man who just seemed stricken by her?"

He laughed.

"I'm not sure I could have even taken notice of it so was I fascinated by her beauty…"

She made a face.

"I feared as much," whispered she. "Luckily for me some decency got me to stay in the background all the same. Otherwise it would have been even more disastrous for me, Mr. Bingley. It would have shattered my self confidence in a very painful way. While, by letting you both going on with your romance I was not only hurt but also very satisfied about what was happening…"

"Hurt?"

"Indeed hurt, Mr. Bingley. Abandoning the hope of one day being with the man you… fancy is not an easy decision. It was a necessary familial decision but it was a long way from easy." She chuckled in a very discreet manner. "I was young enough to be able to believe that I would forget you and, in time, heal…"

She sighed and he made his hand cover hers.

"Must I conclude that you didn't heal?"

She shook her head.

"As you know probably by now, one does not heal from heart ache. One learns to live with it and, hopefully, one day it disappears. But there is no forgetfulness in love, only amnesia…"

He squeezed her hand.

"I'm sorry…"

She made a little shake with her head.

"Don't be, it was perhaps a good thing for both of us. It comes with the context."

He frowned.

"How so?"

She smiled at him. And this time there was pleasure in her sparkling eyes.

"Being one of five daughters is not a very easy burden to bear if, like me, you believe that you come last in every category."

She giggled.

"Imagine a world where your eldest sisters are: the first more beautiful, the other more intelligent and the last more accomplished? And to add insult to injury, your only younger sister gives every hint to become as beautiful as your eldest if, at one time or another in the future she should choose to be less silly…"

He made a face, half grimace half smile.

"It's difficult for an only son like me to do it easily but I believe I can get the gist of your problem."

Kitty smiled at him and lowered her eyes.

"And –_I'm not proud of it, I swear, but it seemed the best plan at that time_– I chose to follow my younger sister in all her excesses. Was it to hide under my own silliness or to guarantee that she would remain the silliest girl of the family? I don't know, but the fact is there, I behaved like one of England's most silliest girl…"

She shook her head.

"It was not planned consciously but it was what I knew, instinctually, I had to do. It was silly, even sillier than what Lydia did but it was the only way I had found to maintain my little chance to be the one at the top between the both of us…"

Bingley chuckled…

"Indeed it was a silly solution, Miss Catherine and all in all I disagree."

"You disagree, Mr. Bingley?"

"I disagree, Miss Catherine, you're not the last in each category! As everybody else, you're everything at the same time. Just not in the same proportions. You're beautiful, witty, accomplished and silly as we are all. You're perhaps not the best in each category but that will not be par on being last in each of those categories. I'm sure that you're uniting those Bennet sisters' advantages in your own very personal and extraordinary combination."

She blushed at the compliment.

"Even if it is a lie, Mr. Bingley, let it be known that it is the kindest lie I ever heard…"

He shook his head energetically.

"It's no lie, Miss Catherine, I swear… And there's no kindness in truth! Let's be honest, you believe you're second to every one of your sisters but that's only because you've chosen to compete in the field where each of them are better than you. This is foolish! Don't go against them in the fields where they are better but where they are your seconds. Compete against Mary in beauty, Elizabeth in accomplishment, Jane in liveliness and Lydia in good manners… Stop being foolish by choosing a challenge where you cannot win and, I'm sure of it, you'll win against each and every one of them!"

He looked her in the eye.

"And, even better, stop competing against them and let your own special gifts flourish. You'll soon see that you don't need to be compared to them. You just need to be you…"

She decided that it was perhaps time to ask a question.

"And how do you find the person who is Catherine Bennet, Mr. Bingley?"

He smiled.

"As I said, livelier than the Jane I walked with, wittier than her sister Mary, more accomplished than her sister Elizabeth and more interesting than her sister Lydia. And, last but not least, it does a wealth of good to my battered ego to hear that I was able, in the same evening, to ignite the hearts of two extraordinary young girls…"


	49. London Palace

Still noon in London...

* * *

**Chapter forty nine: London Palace (Encounters of the political kind?)**

* * *

**London. Tuesday the eighth September. Noon.**

* * *

"You are sure I won't disturb him?"

Jane shook her head.

"I'm sure. He's is awake and conscious. The only thing he's still unable to do is move out of his bed. There's no problem with his mind or tongue. You should be able to get all the answers you need."

Lebrun thanked with a smile, bowed goodbye and continued in the general direction of Geoffrey's room.

"Handsome and polite man…" said Elizabeth while looking after him.

"Indeed for both," agreed Jane. "And much more kind than I would have thought listening to my husband." She smiled at her sister. "I had to conclude that he and the Third Consul had a great dislike for each other. Perhaps I was wrong?"

Lizzy smiled at her sister.

She loved her sparkling eyes and her satisfied smile. Even the greatest faith cannot replace a fact and the fact of her husband's awakening had been better than everything else for Jane's well-being.

"You'll have to ask him, dear. For the time being I must say that Mr. Lebrun was perfectly polite and that his English is perfect even if he has that obviously French accent."

Jane agreed.

"But then Geoffrey has this funny accent of him. I do believe it's a mix of Chinese and French. It's rather cute…"

Lizzy laughed.

"He could have a Russian accent you would still find it cute!"

Jane didn't confirm but came back to take her place facing her sister at the breakfast table.

Soon she was eating another chocolate and almond roll.

"Be careful or you'll inflate like a balloon…"

"I'm eating for three," replied Jane who did perhaps love the Palace pastries with a little too much enthusiasm. "Don't forget it…"

Lizzy shook her head.

"I forget nothing, Jane!" answered Elizabeth. "But I must remind you that you're eating for an adult and two tiny little d'Arcys. But looking at the number of rolls you're wolfing down, one could believe that you are hosting two starved adults in that tiny belly of yours!"

Jane frowned at Lizzy and pointed at her sister's plate. A plate where there was indeed a lot more space than a few minutes ago.

"You seem to eat as much as I, dear. I haven't take count but…"

A voice interrupted their banter.

"Don't worry, pregnant woman only eat more than they need if they forget to listen to the messages their body is sending them. And giving to his body what he likes most is a very good mean to give the child a happy and satisfied mum. She just will have to listen to herself during other meals in order to eat less of other foodstuff. At these conditions, all will be well…"

Lizzy and Jane turned to look at a hefty matron who had just past the door of the King's Parlor where the court etiquette –_still followed for a reason nobody was able to explain to them_– required Jane to eat. The profoundly bowing valet gave them an idea of her rank.

Second clue as to her status, the matron didn't curtsy but shot them the most maternally smile they had ever seen.

"Sorry to intrude, but I'm Gwenhifar Hobs, Duchess Waintree. I'm here because I got news that the Bennet family finally arrived in Town." Her smile got even larger. "I was hoping to be able to find my little friend Lydia at the Palace where I was sure she would dwell. Seems I was wrong. Would you be able to give me some information about her whereabouts?"

"Consul…" said d'Arcy while showing an armchair to Lebrun. "Sorry if I don't greet you in the best manner but I'm still not able to move as I would like."

"No problem," said Lebrun. "I only need your advice and some information. You won't need to move more than your head and lips…"

"Those I can move even if my head still rings from time to time with the memory of his encounter with London's cobblestones."

Lebrun smiled politely at his guest's joke before going on.

"I'm here to thank you… You saved my life…"

d'Arcy smiled and his eyes sparkled.

"It was sheer reflex, monsieur le Consul. Had I taken the time to think I would probably have made another decision… But there with the bomb's fuse hissing I just couldn't do something else. And had I not misjudged the fuse's burning speed I wouldn't be stuck here in that bed…"

He smiled at Lebrun.

"Had I jumped just after you, I would be training with my sparring partners just now. But I wanted to impress you. To show off what I'm still able to do…"

He sighed.

"And here I am, stuck in a bed for quite a few days to come."

"It changes nothing at the fact that you saved my life. I'm perfectly able to survive the memory of having been tossed out of the carriage. I wouldn't have survived the explosion. For that I'm in your debt and I'm not a man who forgets a favor."

He made a face.

"As for the rest, you could indeed be dead, and France would be deprived of one of his finest man."

d'Arcy acknowledged the compliment with a nod of his head.

"It won't be for the near future, monsieur Lebrun. I'm sure that I will be able to toss you around for quite a few more months."

"Let's hope so," agreed Lebrun. He opened a file and took out a few sheets of paper.

"Do you feel sound enough to be able to work through a few problems I encountered and where I need your advice? Until now I have followed your instructions and guidelines. But we are slowly arriving at points where new decisions become necessary."

d'Arcy looked at Lebrun through half closed eyes.

"Why do you need me to make decisions? I'm here, unable to work… You could take over!"

Lebrun shook his head.

"I'd like to take over, don't read me wrong. But if I do it now I'm going to destroy the delicate balance you built since coming ashore. England is calm, d'Arcy. There are a few centers of dissents but nothing I feared would blossom after our invasion." He shook his head. "I won't say that the people are happy to see us but they really ponder their actual situation with what they had got in the past. And, to my amazement, we are not those who are judged in the most harshly manner. They don't like us but they don't hate us either. We could even happen to win them to the Revolution…"

d'Arcy tried to chuckle.

"The Revolution died a few years ago, let's try not to revive _that_ beast. I prefer to think that we could happen to win them over to a common destiny. England and France are two powers born out of the same womb. I'd like to remind everyone of that common lineage."

He smiled at nothing but the world.

"I'm not yet sure that my policy will show all the results I dream of. But I know it is better than subjugation."

Lebrun nodded.

"I've read your files on the matter and I agree. If we can integrate England in the Republic without giving them the impression that we are gutting them, they'll accept our rule."

d'Arcy looked at the third Consul.

"But that means using the taxes paid by our English citizens in England for England. Do you really believe our beloved First Consul will agree?"

Lebrun made a noncommittal face.

"I'm not in Napoleon's mind but I'm sure he has a clear idea of what he could win if England's population ends up liking being French. And investing most of English taxes on English soil is much smarter than investing it elsewhere. Here are the foundations for a whole new industrial vision of the world. Destroying it in order to build it somewhere else would be a waste of money." He frowned. "And you know, I hate wasting the taxpayer's money…"

"Yes," said d'Arcy. "That I know…"

* * *

Being well bred young ladies and being both not sure where they were positioned on the scale of England's aristocracy, both Bennet sisters stood and curtsied to the Duchess.

The Duchess thanked them with another kind smile.

"Your Grace…" said Jane. "Lydia is at Mr. Darcy's Town House…"

"The Embassy, you mean" said Duchess Waintree with a little chuckle. "How has your husband reacted?"

Jane shook her head.

"We had no opportunity to speak about that particular problem." She frowned just before blushing. "In fact, we spoke of nothing but personal matters."

Duchess Waintree chuckled once more.

"Sorry to embarrass you, I'll stop disturbing you and I'm going to call at the Embassy…"

Remembering her good education, and quite more than a little curious, Jane lifted a hand to stop the Duchess.

"Please, don't feel obliged to go. We would be very happy to have the opportunity to speak with Lydia's special friend." She tried a tentative smile. "She's quite enthusiastic when speaking of 'her' Duchess…" She pointed toward a chair and the breakfast table. "There's quite enough for another person. And I can guarantee you that these are the best pastries of all England."

"Well," said the Duchess while moving toward the proposed chair. "If you tempt me with the best English pastries you won't get rid of me for a long time, that's for sure!"

* * *

"Then I'm going to implement Mr. Gardiner's tax reform…" said Lebrun after having listened to d'Arcy's explanations.

d'Arcy looked at his vis-à-vis with surprise in the eyes.

"It had never been done, it will require a great deal of public servants. I'm not sure we can afford it…"

Lebrun smiled at d'Arcy.

"We will lavishly draw from the money hoard you stole from the English King, monsieur le Premier Proconsul. I'm sure there's enough to launch that interesting reform _and_ to secure the future of your wife and children…"

d'Arcy sniffed at his opposite.

"My family has enough estates throughout Europe to live more than decently. If such a thing as a money hoard would exist I would never had used it for personal enrichment. Please don't forget that we have a whole continent to develop, money will be needed in great amounts…"

Lebrun shook his head.

"That's where you and the first Consul do make the same mistake. You believe that developing new countries will bring more benefit. There you are wrong. It is much more interesting to invest in countries where there are already people than to invest money in countries where you hope to drain new population in the future."

He took another sheet of paper.

"I have here the numbers of England's population. We have, at this very moment probably more than eight and a half million English citizens. A little less than four millions of these are able bodied males. Half of these males are taught and skilled in quite a lot of professions and crafts. If we are able to give all those people a job and an income, we will be able to generate quite an interesting revenue for this part of the Republic. And, believe me; it will be much easier to invest your money here than in America where there are no roads, no bridges and no real infrastructures."

"But what about America's riches? I'm sure there's Gold and Silver and Iron and Coal there…"

Lebrun snorted.

"Don't let yourself be blinded by Gold and Silver mines. They are mirages who bring only sorrow and disillusions. As for Iron and Coal, England's underground is full of them."

He took an book out of his portfolio and handed it to d'Arcy.

"This is a study financed by the Darcy family and done by the best geologists of the University of Heidelberg. Your family's estates are built over the greatest coal and iron mines of whole Europe. And the reserves are immeasurable. We don't need America's mines. Not yet! And here, in England, we already have the workers and miners to do the job! England is where we will produce the Republic's wealth in the coming fifty years. America will be where we will begin to invest in twenty years from now with the profits of the English economy!"

"But we still have to secure French America from all the other's appetites."

Lebrun snorted again.

"Louisiana is your brainchild and you're losing your time pondering on it, d'Arcy. Louisiana is important but not more than England and France." He pointed toward the floor. "It's here that we will build our future powerbase. Once powerful and mighty, nobody will be able to resist us! We will have the armies to defend what's ours. If we waste them in a foreign campaign we will still gain but we will gain only the tenth of what we would gain by using people we already have…"

He looked at d'Arcy.

"I've read your files, d'Arcy. You know that the real wealth of a land are its people! Mines and factories are worth nothing without the people to use them."

d'Arcy nodded. He knew that truth only too good. China was rich thank to its mass of people. If the whole length of an unkind continent wouldn't be separating them, Europe would have been Chinese for centuries now.

"I do agree but we cannot wait to show to the world that Louisiana and the North American continent are ours. If we show the least hesitation, the United States will grab for our American land. And they have the means to take it away from us…"

Lebrun shook his head.

"They could but they won't. They know our strength. They know that they couldn't resist against us."

d'Arcy was not convinced.

"They bested the British who afterwards defeated the Kingdom of France. Somewhere they are more dangerous than you believe."

"They are only around four millions in their States. And they have more territories then we here in Europe. I see no reasons for them to try to invade neighboring countries."

d'Arcy snorted.

"They will invade, that's not the question!"

Lebrun looked surprised at d'Arcy's outburst.

"Why should they? They are allies and they have shown nothing but peaceful behavior these twenty five last years."

"Peaceful behavior? You must be joking! Look at what they did to the natives that stood in the way of their expansion! No, they will attack because they consider the whole continent as theirs. We will always be considered by them as a foreign power occupying their property and if we don't show in the next months that we have the will and the means to defend what's ours, they'll try and grab it…"

Lebrun shook his head.

"You really believe what you just said, didn't you?"

"I don't believe, Lebrun. I know it! Would I be at their place, I would do the same. There's just no way to accept that a foreign power will cam at my doorstep and close the future of my territorial expansion!"

d'Arcy looked Lebrun in the eye.

"We have only one alternative there, we fight them or we lose Louisiana. It's as simple as that."

He sighed, finally relaxed and closed his eyes.

"There could be another solution. They would probably accept to buy it… And they would pay a large sum to get it…"

He reopened his eyes.

"But if the Republic is ready to sell, let it be very clear that _I_ will make an offer too…"

* * *

"She is not the best educated young girl I have ever encountered, that' s evident, but she is smart, witty and has a will of her own." The Duchess laughed. "You should have seen how she fought to get us enough to eat. That's a girl who will never be scared by any man…"

Jane glanced at Lizzy and sighed.

Lydia had often told the stories of her captivity and they had believed that she had given free reign to her imagination as to how it was organized.

But Duchess Waintree's recalling was of the same sort, if not uglier.

Jane shook her head.

"But why would civilized people act like this, your Grace. There is more to gain in collaboration than in egotism…"

The Duchess looked at the beautiful blond girl –_wife now and future mother if the signs were right_– and a maternal smile came on her lips.

She had thought that Lydia was perfect and that she had, after all those years found what she was looking for, but her sisters were even better suited.

Not taking into account their auras.

Never in all her long career she had encountered such auras. There was an undeniable powerful charm that had been cast on both sisters. A charm she could only admire and test. Not even she with all her powers would have a chance against that sort of protection.

She sighed. She would have to find another strategy. The previous one was definitively not suited.

"It is in those circumstances that you see what the people really look like inside," answered she after a few seconds of a heavy silence. "It's not when everything goes well that a man –_or a woman's– _character comes out of hiding. It's when the circumstances are dire and difficult. And young Lydia has shown a very uncommon will to survive coupled with a delicious naiveté and kindness. She never let anybody bully me or her and she never chose to bully another one…" She smiled at one of her best memory. "She shared what she got out of the dinner fights with me and two other people and the day they came to get her out she wouldn't budge before having gotten the guarantee that I and those other twos she cared for would be freed. I don't know how she did it but we were all three free and _en route_ to my estate at the same moment she was entering the waiting carriage."

Jane smiled at that part of Lydia's story. Of course she had told everything to her sisters. More than once even and, knowing Lydia, they had been selective about what was true and what has to be put in perspective by Lydia's natural boastfulness. But, for once, Lydia had clearly told the truth. Probably because the truth was awful enough without her needing to improve the tale.

Jane looked at the Duchess and tried a timid smile.

"I'm sorry for what happened… I…"

The Duchess grasped her hand and shook her head.

"No need to be sorry, it's not your fault and you must know that all the detainees were freed on the second Sunday following my own liberation… They are all at home now and they are all wondering why civilization is so easily defeated by barbarism in certain circumstances." She squeezed Jane's hand and had great difficulties to maintain her kind maternal smile.

It was even worse than she had feared: that charm was truly impenetrable. Even while touching her victim, she just couldn't get through.

It was not black magic; no black magic could ever be so strong. It was as if her victim was part of Earth's telluric grid.

Never in all her career had she encountered a protection charm so powerful! She wondered if with that sort of shield young Mrs d'Arcy could even be shot at!

"You are responsible for nothing what happened before you encountered him, dear. And since you are with him the situation has only improved." Her most motherly smile was back. "You are a blessing for England, dear. Don't let anybody convince you of the contrary…"

Duchess Waintree let go of the hand and sat back in her chair.

She had tried it and now it was evident that her plans would not work as easily as usual.

She would have to find another approach.

Perhaps hang on young Lydia even if her sisters were better suited. But she couldn't take the risk to attack a protection charm of that magnitude. She would have to summon powers who would shatter the continuum and that sort of summon would give her away immediately.

And she really _really_ had no desire to encounter a warlock able to cast that sort of spell.

She would have to have a look at the husband but it was now evident why he had survived with only a few broken limbs an explosion that has sent pieces of his carriage at a borough's distance.

She maintained her smile but at the inside she was boiling.

She hated it when she had to change plans. She really hated it!


	50. London United Kingdom Embassy

Still in London...

* * *

**Chapter fifty: London United Kingdom Embassy**

* * *

**London. Wednesday the ninth September.**

* * *

"Miss Catherine," said Charles Bingley the moment he turned around to see her finish a very unladylike glide in his direction, braking at the last second and stopping at only a yard from him with sparkling eyes and a striking smile.

She curtsied and he bowed at the same moment.

"I hope I don't disturb?"

She shook her head energetically.

"You'll never disturb, Mr. Bingley. But you were able to surprise us. We were awaiting you later in the day. We had no occasion to warn the Master of the House that you'd be calling. I fear, save me and my sisters, nobody's aware of your coming yet…"

He smothered a too big smile.

"I hope it won't be a problem because later didn't seem to be an option when I woke up. It seemed obvious to me that there was nowhere else I wanted to go today…"

She blushed lightly.

"There's nowhere else where you would be more welcome, Mr. Bingley."

His smile became impish.

"Didn't we agree on Charles and Catherine…"

She shook her head.

"_You_ agreed on Charles and Catherine. I'm still of the opinion that I would prefer to be Kitty for you."

He made a half felt face.

"It's too…" he hesitated. "It's too… Too undignified. As if you still were a young girl, which is clearly not the case."

She smiled at him.

"I feel like being Kitty with you, Charles. It has nothing to do with being young or being a girl. It's just that I'd love to hear you call me 'Kitty'. At least I would love it when we are alone facing each other with only that curious manservant listening around the corner."

There was the noise of a rapidly moving away pair of slippers but it didn't disturb her.

"You must remember that I have been Kitty for around eighteen years and Catherine for only a few weeks. Most of my happy memories are linked with Kitty. I'd like to have you on the same level of satisfaction…"

He snorted.

"Well, Kitty it will be…" said he. "But only when we are alone…"

"Good beginning Mr. Bingley" answered she with an enormous smile on her face. "I'm beginning to hope that we will be able to unearth the happy, charming, laughing young man who enthralled me that evening in Meryton…"

He was opening his mouth to answer when a known voice came from upstairs.

"Charles, is that you?" asked Darcy while coming down. A smile appeared on his face. "What a good surprise, I wasn't sure; it had been so long…"

Charles walked toward Darcy and they shook hands.

"A few weeks at the most, we've been without seeing each other for longer durations…"

Darcy nodded while raising his eyebrows.

"Never after me having confessed my betrayal to you…"

Charles chuckled.

"Indeed it is the first time since that awful event…"

Darcy made a face and Charles could read in his friend's eyes that that betrayal was still weighing heavily on his conscience.

"But let's agree that betrayal is too much a word, Darcy. Don't be too harsh with yourself, my friend. You were not the only culprit and you were not the principal one… I went a long way since that moment and I hope I was able to sort everything out."

"Sort everything out?"

Charles Bingley nodded and pointed toward the Morning Parlor.

"I must confess that I came without taking the time to eat anything." He looked sideways at Kitty who gave him her most charming smile. "Would it be possible that there's still the possibility to eat something at Darcy House even if it is now the British Empire's Embassy?"

Darcy nodded and invited Charles to precede him with his most formal bow.

"It would be my pleasure to have you as a guest at my table!"

* * *

"And so I decided that it was far too easy to only look at you and my sisters to see the guilty party. It was not that simple, since nobody forced me to quit Netherfield without saying goodbye. Had I found the courage to speak with Jane and announce my departure, I'm today totally certain that she would have said something… So by just removing myself I launched the whole course of action…"

He looked at Darcy who had been joined by his wife.

"And yesterday," added he by smiling at Kitty, "I came all around and out of that despicable mood."

"You'll forgive your sisters?" asked Elizabeth.

"Not as easily as I forgive Darcy," answered he. "He, at least, showed me that he felt sorry and had asked for forgiveness. They never did!" He shook his head. "I won't hold that grudge for much longer but I fear that our relationship will never again be the same."

He shrugged and sighed.

"I suppose it happens from time to time that brethren dissolve. They are family and even if I tried I know now that I will never be able to hate them. But what's past is past. The time where Caroline would follow me everywhere is behind us. I'll stay in touch but I won't ever again live under the same roof with them for any lengthy period of time."

He turned toward Kitty and his eyes sparkled.

"I've just make the decision that I'll buy a second town house just for… _me_. My sisters will have the use of the Bingley Town House and I'll give them an allowance high enough to be sure that they can go on living the life they love."

He looked at Kitty.

"What would you choose? A new building or an old purchased one?"

"A new one," answered Kitty without an hesitation. "I would use all the opportunities of modern technology to build the most modern house available. With fresh water running out of pipes at each storey and gas light in every room!" Her eyes sparkled. "But it would be the house of a family, were I you I would wait the day you've encountered your future wife to begin designing its plans. She should have her say in such an important matter, don't you think?"

He nodded.

"Indeed I agree and I'll postpone the design of said House to the day after the announcement of my engagement."

Darcy shot an amazed look at Lizzy. Something had happened they both had missed. He did not know exactly what it was but Charles Bingley was quite a different man.

Lizzy shrugged her shoulders and pointed with a glance toward Kitty and Charles.

_I'll look into it_, whispered she before looking at Charles Bingley.

"Can we conclude that you have surmounted your…" she hesitated. It would not be kind to re-open old wound.

Charles came to her help.

"My deception?" asked he just before nodding. "Yes, I believe so. I'll never forget your sister and I'll have great difficulties to forgive me for not having been able to see that we were indeed both in love with each other. I hate the fact that I was a blind idiot. And I hate even more the fact that I caused her grief for so many months. But I know now that that lost opportunity will never come back. She has her life now and thank God she is as happy as possible. I'm sure now that I have to go on and stop crying after a love story I myself destroyed."

His smile came back.

"Today is another day. And tomorrow will bring new opportunities I want to be able to see. The last months I blinded myself, first with cowardice, than with foolishness and finally with grief." He snorted. "That has to stop. I want to see and I want to be again able to laugh, to dance and to flirt…"

He cast a sideway glance to Kitty who didn't react at his last words. She was just smiling at the world knowing that it was now to her to grasp all the opportunities this new Charles was offering. She refused to believe it would be easy. It never was. But she knew that she had made her feelings very clear and she had seen that he was not unresponsive to her. She was in no hurry to become a wife even if she has not the least doubt whose wife she wanted to become.

She'll make him laugh and dance and flirt… And the rest would come from alone.

* * *

"Well, General what will it be? The Uke or the Bee?" asked Charles with a smile he had not been able to muster for long months.

"Is it necessary to choose?" asked Richard Fitzwilliam sitting with Darcy, Mr. Bennet and Charles Bingley in Darcy's study.

Mr. Bennet nodded.

"I fear you won't have a choice for a very long time. If this is an Embassy you'll have to name it and I'm as sure as Charles that an acronym will soon be born."

"They could just call it the Embassy!" protested the general. "I will be the only one in London! All the others are in Paris…"

"It could be the Eobe," said Darcy with a smile. "Sounds cleaner than uke and more serious than bee, don't you think?"

Richard looked toward the heavens.

"Why not simply the Embassy… It is _the_ Embassy, isn't it?"

"I do believe it is the people who are going to choose, not us," said Mr. Bennet pointing toward the street where a few dozens of people were, as usual, standing and chatting. They were less numerous than on Thursday but there were at least a hundred of them always standing in Grosvenor Street. A few costermongers had soon chosen to come and propose their wares and never before had that quiet street been livelier. "And one never knows what will take the people's fancy."

He looked at the General.

"Shouldn't you have asked d'Arcy before putting that flag on top of the House?"

Richard made a face.

"I was going to inform him when I heard of the assassination attempt. And since then I had hardly an opportunity to ask for an interview with him…"

"I suppose now it's too late to ask…" said Charles. "He probably knows already…"

"It was never my intention to ask," grumbled Richard. "I was going to inform him and that's it!"

All, save Richard, laughed at his outcry. He was still not ready to accept the new realities of occupied England. But then, were they?

There was a long silence just after their outburst.

Yes there was a new English reality. And England's French reality was not an easy thing to swallow…

"There are rumors about dissidents somewhere in Cornwall," said Mr. Bennet. "It could be the beginning of a guerilla war."

Darcy made a face.

"Should we applaud or fear it? We are occupied but there are even less troubles now than a few months ago." He pointed toward the street. "With Prinny there would already have been an intervention by the constables. He was rather prickly with large meetings…"

Richard snorted.

"He was scared shitless, that's what he was. He knew that nobody liked him and that his way to rule was very censured… He couldn't afford to let a meeting take place. It would have been just too dangerous."

Darcy and Mr. Bennet looked at each other.

There were a few 'gendarmes' present but they were mingling with the people and freely speaking with everybody. Never were they threatening or unpleasant.

They said they were here to assure the protection of people and homes and nobody questioned their words.

This very morning, Mr. Bennet had opened the door and had crossed the street to buy a few fresh fruits at a costermonger's. The people had looked at him and a few had moved to be able to speak with him. While choosing the ripest fruits he had used his 'opportunity' to speak with the meeting people.

And he had been very surprised, amazed even, that the French were _not at all_ at the center of the people's dissatisfaction.

In fact, there was no real dissatisfaction.

No, if they were upset; it was –_a lot_– with the Hannover dynasty who betrayed them and –_a little less–_ with the Navy who failed to sink the French in the Channel. And if the Navy would probably regain her image if she happened to win a few naval battles, it was very clear that the old dynasty would have a lot of problems to be again accepted as England's rulers.

To Mr. Bennet's surprise his eldest son in law was a very popular man with London's citizenry.

d'Arcy had an undeniable prestige in London, coming from very different directions. First he had that shining image of the dashing victorious army commander who made every male's eyes shine. Second, he had been able to conquer the heart of England's most beautiful woman –_the people's words not her father's even if he would never deny_– and that had given him a kindness the strategist would always have lacked. Finally having been the victim of a cowardly assassination attempt by Irish scum had helped to even further his good image. If you added to those personal things a few more political ones as for instance that never before the streets had been more secured and that London's economy was thriving it was not very surprising that even while considered an invader, d'Arcy –_and his helpers_– was really hated by very few.

The facts were that London's economy was booming and that the labor gangs who were digging sewers in the streets were giving answers to problems the old monarchy never seemed to even see. Even the paupers who made up most of the labor gangs had, for the first time in centuries, the feeling that somebody at the top was taking their fate into account and was trying to improve their lot. Even if it was hard work, it was work and well paid work!

And with most of the Gentry having run away, a majority of those who had been forced to stay were very happy with the new situation. Even the east-end creatures were quiet and lenient.

The only point that brought dismay to the people Mr. Bennet has spoken to was the fact that they were no longer English citizens.

That was a point where all agreed. They had been proud to be members of the British Empire and having become citizens of the French Republic was _not_ their favorite feature.

They grumbled about it but they showed no real frustration about the situation. Not one had spoken of an insurrection or even an open fight against the invader.

"The Crown Prince is out of town and it will be quite a long time 'til he's back," said Mr. Bennet. "And as for the insurrection in Cornwall I'm not sure that's good news. This invasion has, 'til now, been with remarkably few bloodshed. Are we really longing after bloody massacres in the future?"

Richard Fitzwilliam sighed and shook his head.

"I know you won't like what I'm going to say but it could well be that we need a few massacres to wake England up! Our fellow citizens seem much too satisfied with what happens to them for my taste."

Mr. Bennet smothered a smile.

Indeed a few massacres do tend to wake the people up. He had witnessed both part of the play. The massacres and the following uprisings.

He made a face.

"Indeed I don't like it, General. If the only hope you have to see our people revolt against the invader is because said invaders begin to kill randomly, I'll say: 'Let's stay French!'."

Richard snorted.

"Those words could be…"

He was cut by Mr. Bennet.

"Young man, don't throw around words you don't want to see coming back at you! I've done my part of fighting and while _I _was under the red frock, _my_ army never lost a square inch of territory! It seems that it has become a habit with the new generations of soldiers to let the enemy _win_ and occupy our land!"

He stared Richard back in his seat.

"Treachery and betrayal should be looked for within the ranks of those who were wearing the officers coats and dancing while several tens of thousands enemies were nearing our coastline just under their noses!"

Darcy tried to intervene but a very definitive gesture from Mr. Bennet stopped him.

"England will, sooner or later, come out of the yoke of the French, I don't have the least doubt. But probably not while d'Arcy's still here to supervise everything. But just now we still have seventy thousand French veterans on our soil. I would propose to wait 'till my son in law has taken said armies with him to that American campaign he speaks of every time! I'm sure it will be easier to get rid of the French with Him somewhere else!"

It was Charles who raised a finger to get the authorization to speak.

Mr. Bennet agreed with a curt nod.

"But there is an insurrection brewing in Cornwall. There are rumors all over the Town. And it is said that freedom fighters are summoned to join this liberation army!"

Mr. Bennet snorted once more.

"And the fact that those rumors are all over the Town don't disturb you?"

He looked at his three young friends.

They signaled that it did not.

Mr. Bennet frowned and shot a sharp look at the General.

"What are they learning you nowadays in Woolwich? Don't you ever look at the archives? Or do you consider that, because it had been done in the past, it has not value for the future?"

He shook his head.

"Man, we did it twice to the American insurgents. We lured them to regroup into big battalions and when they were too big to live off the land they had no longer a choice but to come out and fight! And twice we crushed them because against a real army they stood not the smallest chance!"

He exhaled lengthily.

"And d'Arcy is just feeding us our own medicine! All the idiots and foolish roosters will move to Cornwall!" He punched the table. "To Cornwall of all possible countries, they've chosen the poorest!"

Charles risked another comment.

"But it is rugged Land there. Good to hide!"

"Perfect to hide," agreed Mr. Bennet. "_If you are less than a few hundred_!"

He pointed a finger toward the General.

"What do you believe will happen when two or three thousand people are gathering in the rugged hills of Cornwall?"

Richard could only swallow loudly.

"They'll be famished…"

"And?" continued mercilessly Mr. Bennet.

"They'll be forced to move…"

"Right into d'Arcy's killing grounds," hammered Mr. Bennet. "And you'll have your hoped for massacre, General. But it will be looked at by the civvies as a relief not as a crime…" He shook his head. "Had our politicians not been so greedy down there in America, we would still have our colonies! Because we had them despising their so-called freedom fighters! We had them beginning to believe that the Crown was the better alternative! And then those stinking bastards of the Parliament tried once more to shear the already naked beast!"

He looked Charles in the eye.

"And do you really believe that d'Arcy will begin to squeeze England any time soon?"

Charles could only deny that possibility.

"No way! He's investing like mad. We…" He looked at the General. "That's Mr. Gardiner and my Company, have public contracts with the Proconsulate for more than twelve millions pounds value! We have contracts to build sewers in every important town and we have been hired to plaster most of the roads crisscrossing our country with that new tar and stones mix he's shown us." He shook his head and his eyes sparkled in marvel. "Imagine, no more problems when it rains or when it snows! A perfectly flat and rock-solid surface that can be cleared with machines! And he has even plans with a metal track placed steam engine. We could cross England from North to South in only one day! In five years nobody will recognize England… It will be another country…"

Mr. Bennet snickered.

"A Country where _the_ Company will have earned a great deal of every pound the Proconsulate has spent!" He smiled at Charles. "Who will be the richest men in England in five years' time?"

Charles could only smile.

"d'Arcy, Mr. Gardiner, me and all those who joined us to invest in the Company" answered he. "And our wealth will probably increase tenfold the years after…"

Mr. Bennet continued.

"And what about England, my dear Mr. Bingley?"

Charles smiled.

"We will have the best infrastructure of Europe and our factories will be able to produce about everything which can be conceived today. England will be the world's factory and the average wealth will have increased in every layer of the population!" Charles Bingley shook his head in disbelief. "It could even happen that we could be able to eradicate poverty! It's not sure but with the new rules for the use of company profit, it could very well be possible!"

Mr. Bennet looked at Richard Fitzwilliam and his smile was impish.

"Now that you know that, I'll let you imagine what my son-in-law's real intentions are, General. As a little help, here's my opinion: he's here to stay and he has plans. And those plans do not include slaughtering people he's done everything to seduce. A bloodbath is not part of the future he envisions for England!" He pointed at the General. "With all due respect, General, allow an old warhorse to be bold enough to give an advice to a brand new General, but I do believe you should use what influence you have on London's crowds to convince all those who could decide that going to Cornwall is a good idea, that it is clearly not! It could be that, one day in a not so distant future; these hotheads could be of a better use alive and ready to serve the Crown than buried in some Cornwallis mass grave."

* * *

_Ten more chapters to come and then we'll walk into another realm.._.


	51. London Proconsular Palace

Still in London...

* * *

**Chapter fifty one: London Proconsular Palace**

* * *

**London. Thursday the tenth September.**

* * *

"We'll have to move on our schedule, Géraud…"

D'Arcy was still bed bound but his bed room was a bed room only by night. Days, it was an office and a well visited office to say the truth. Even if Lebrun had taken the brunt of all the daily management; the military matters were still d'Arcy's job.

"Lebrun?"

D'Arcy denied.

"No, nothing to do with him. He's rather easy to work with. I have news from Paris. It seems that our First Consul has been listening to what I have told him. War is in the air…"

Duroc smiled at his boss. He was here just one month and ten day into the biggest sea invasion ever launched and he spoke of "war" being in the air.

"We are in the middle of a first class military campaign, Boss. War is already in the air…"

D'Arcy replied with a smile of his own.

"God, Géraud, this is no longer a military campaign. The only soldiers still soldiering are our cavalry units and you know as well as me that what they are doing has nothing to do with a military campaign…"

"People like it… I get daily dozens of letters thanking us for that type of action! Never before was the country so safe and secure. It seems that some bandit ridden Counties will soon see their real estate prices go up!" He looked at his Boss and his smile disappeared. "And then there are those special units of yours. They are all over the map doing things I do not know of."

D'Arcy snickered at his adjutant's frustration.

"Believe me, my friend, you don't want to know what they are doing. Pacifying a country is not an easy job and from time to time there are a few dirty situations that must be cleaned without too much fuss and without too much people knowing of it." He winked at his general. "But let it be known that even they are on standstill almost everywhere."

Duroc seemed unconvinced but nodded nevertheless. He knew that d'Arcy could lie but he also knew that he would not lie on important matters that could cost lives.

"What war then?"

D'Arcy pointed toward the map.

"Let's see what you feel of our current strategic situation, Duroc. Look at the map and give me your assessment about the situation.

"Beginning?"

"Beginning where you want. It will all come finally to the same…"

Duroc looked at the map. Germany? Nothing to get there but problems. It would be Italy all over again with the big difference that Germans where, contrary to Italians, warriors to the soul. If you kicked that anthill you'll get bitten. Fast and painful!

Not to exclude a move of Prussia's king who was looking at the rest of Germany with hungry eyes.

Russia?

Not even Buonaparte would be foolish enough to attack _that_ country. They could retreat and retreat and retreat and the invading army would finally lose its supply lines and then would come the winter! He shuddered at what could happen to an army lost in that immensity without supply and with the wolves –_beast and human_– biting at its heels.

He looked North.

Yes, the Netherlands. The First Consul could decide to integrate the northern part in the republic. Now that England was out of the game nobody would lose a tear on Dutch merchants. But why do it? They were already tamed pets!

Sweden? Denmark?

Perhaps! Little countries with no longer the backup of British money. They could be taken without too much of a fuss. He could take them out with a quarter of what he has here in England.

_But God, what for? Just to show the world that we can take them_?

Do we really want everybody else beginning to regroup just out of fear?

He shook his head. He was not in either's French strategists minds but he hoped they had both the gist to understand that a great number of little dogs could slaughter even the biggest beast.

His eyes wandered South. Austria? Bad but numerous soldiers and in a battle numbers had their own truth. But then Austria had not only bad soldiers, Austria had bad officers and even worse generals.

Yes Austria it could be.

"Austria?"

D'Arcy snickered.

"Good job! That's where I would launch my next attack; but not directly."

Duroc looked at his Boss.

"Not directly?"

"As I said," said d'Arcy. "Not directly, as in after letting them shoot the first bullet."

"Would they?"

D'Arcy nodded.

"If prodded at the right painful spot, they will; Duroc, believe me, they will! Austria's nightmare is in Italy and we are already in Italy. If we seem to threaten their tiny part of the Mediterranean coast they have, their military will over react. They will move, believe me, especially if we poke them while most of our armies are here in England." He snickered. "Never forget that they believe themselves at the head of Europe's most powerful army. They have twice the number of men and their artillery is probably the most numerous of the world, China excluded… They will strike, I'm sure of it."

Duroc looked at the map and shook his head.

"What would be their goal? They can't believe they could beat us on French soil…"

"They don't have that sort of ambition, my dear Duroc. Not yet and not now! They want to preserve their door on the world's oceans. That's what triggers them. If we push them to believe that we want to take that from them they'll react. They already have half their armies in Austrian Italy. They could be pushed into believing that they are powerful enough to take _our_ chunk of Italy. The Ligurian coast and Genoa is a region they would love to possess…" He laughed. "Imagine that they could have access to the real Mediterranean sea, not only the Adriatic sea where the Turks are always in the way…"

"So you would push them to strike first…"

D'Arcy nodded.

"In this present play we are the bad ugly invader, Duroc," said he. "We must take precautions to show a certain restraint. If we bully everybody we will push all our potential enemies to regroup and to launch a multi fronted attack." He shook his head. "And that's bad medicine!"

He looked at his most promising general and sighed.

"But that's not what's going to happen. As I said, our dear leader seems to have taken my advice into account…"

Duroc snapped with his fingers and pointed a finger toward the Ottoman Empire.

"The Turks, he is going to attack the Turks…"

"Yes and no, Duroc, yes and no…"

Duroc forced himself to think. He had learned a lot since serving under d'Arcy. His commander was a man who believed that brains must be used and the more the better. He never gave his solution first front. He always let his generals give their opinion and explain how they would do it…

And clearly there was such an invitation.

"He won't be alone!" said finally Duroc. "He will go in with an ally."

Duroc's eyes went back to the map. There were a few potential allies. But only one was believable.

"The Czar… He'll get the Czar to launch the attack."

"Bravo," applauded d'Arcy. "That's exactly what he's trying to do! As of yet the Czar doesn't know anything about his next military campaign but we both know how charming our Boss can be when he wants something…"

Duroc looked at his present commander.

"He's not the only one, Boss. I've never seen you in that role before but you're quite the sly seducer when you see it as important."

D'Arcy sighed.

"That's because it was important, my friend. You wouldn't believe how important it has become. A loving wife is…"

He stopped.

"Sorry, my friend, I just for a second forgot. I should not…"

Duroc interrupted him.

"Don't worry, Boss. It still hurts but I'm beginning to be able to think of her without collapsing. It is difficult but it is the reality of the world."

D'Arcy shook his head.

"No it's not, my friend. There are ways to save a childbearing mother. There really are. You should not have been deprived of the woman you love because your physician was an ass!"

"He was the best available at that time. And I was away soldiering in Italy…" He sniffed. "I know I couldn't have saved her but I'm still feeling guilty not having be able to be at her side when she died. It shatters you in the inside and it destroys all human feelings in you." He snickered. "It helped in Syria to be an unfeeling bastard! With Sarah alive I would never have been able to do what I did to those towns. But once you've decided there's no God and no Justice, everything becomes much easier…"

D'Arcy nodded.

"But you must come back, Geraud. You must come back or it will destroy you. I see it now as I never saw it before. I was incomplete, my friend. A part of myself was missing and I was not even aware of the hole I had inside me…"

Duroc smiled at the dreamy eyes of his Boss. Never had he seen him so. He was really another man. A better man and that was good for everybody.

"I know, Boss. Emilie helped me to fill my hole. I'm no longer that unfeeling bastard." He smiled. "As a matter of fact, I miss her…"

D'Arcy made a gesture.

"Let her come!" said he. "We have a whole empty Palace to lodge her and her Grandmother. They would be welcome and as I said since we'll have to move on our schedule it could be the last time you see her for quite a few months."

Duroc tried to speak but was immediately interrupted.

"No protest! You'll send for her and you'll be with her within the week…"

"She could be here in three days," smiled Duroc. "I bought a house in Calais to lodge them. In case I could take a few days to see them."

"Let them come, she'll be as secure here as in Calais. We'll put her and your parents in that part of the Palace where there are no secret passages. So there will be no risk of nightly kidnapping."

Duroc looked at his Boss.

"But if I remember the briefings, that part of the Palace is on the other side of the grounds."

"Indeed, my friend, but never forget that a slimy bastard like me likes to have secret ways to see people who should not even speak with him…" He smiled his most feral smile. "And be sure that behind that secret door a few trustful henchmen are hiding. I'm not going to take the least risk of seeing somebody act against my wife."

That brought Duroc back to another unresolved problem.

"That reminds me of that kidnapping up there in Derby. Do you have more information?"

"Indeed, I do," answered d'Arcy. "And I have got news, pleasant news, that the Master mind behind the plot has gotten quite a jolly good beating. It won't stop him from trying again, but it gives me pleasure to know that he won't take pleasure in moving for quite a few days…"

"You should just have him killed!" rumbled Duroc.

D'Arcy shook his head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, don't be so bloodthirsty. Never forget the first lesson I gave you in Syria. A dead man is always too dead to be of any use. A living man, on the contrary, even if he is still dangerous, can be used to further your own goals."

Duroc exhaled loudly and made a face.

"That's too risky, Boss. Once you have identified a poisonous snake, the best and safest way to deal with it is to crush its head. So you're sure that it won't ever bite you again!"

"But it won't bite your enemy either, my friend! And a tool is a tool is a tool. Once you have broken it, it's often difficult to find another one that is shaped for your hand…" He snickered. "Good and safe are not my ways, Duroc."

Duroc shook his head and pointed toward the door.

"You're no longer alone, Boss! While you were alone and free, you could do all the foolish things you wanted. Now, I do believe you should take her presence into account. You already know that your friend is ugly enough to strike at you by striking at her. I've already lost the wife I loved, I wouldn't wish anyone to live through the same nightmare…"

D'Arcy's smile disappeared.

"I'll do my best to get her alive through the nightmare that is my life. But right now I have no choice. I'm running down a steep slope and I cannot stop in the middle of the run. The only thing I can do is to pray that what I prepared is as sound as I believe and that it'll soon be behind me."

Duroc could only nod. He knew only what was necessary to get that invasion to its end and he was quite satisfied with not knowing more.

"Well then, what's that about moving on our schedule? What do you want me to do and when do you see our probable departure toward _la Nouvelle Orléans_?"

"As soon as I'm out of this bed would be the best," answered d'Arcy. "But I'm aware that…"

* * *

Elizabeth Darcy looked at Jane d'Arcy and laughed.

Jane looked immediately up and frowned at her sister.

"What's the matter? Why are you laughing?"

Elizabeth shook her head and hid her sparkling eyes.

"I'm not only laughing, I'm laughing at you, dear sister…"

Jane answered with her own frown.

"And why are you laughing at me, Mrs. Darcy? And who are you laughing at? Your sister or Mrs. d'Arcy?"

Elizabeth laughed anew.

"At both in fact," answered she. "I laugh at my sister because said sister takes her new role with way too much earnestness. And I laugh at Mrs. D'Arcy because one could believe it's Mrs. d'Arcy who invaded England in order to change everything!"

Jane hesitated a second or two about the reaction she should show.

Indeed she was serious in her undertaking. It was the best moment to try and have things change. How could she not…

She finally realized that Lizzy was teasing her.

She smiled and finally laughed.

"Sorry, dear, I'm taking everything with too much seriousness…"

"As usual," agreed Elizabeth. "But, as usual you could do the same things without the frown and without that total concentration…"

"But, Lizzy, it's imp…."

"Portant! I know, Jane and I'm not lessening your efforts. I just say that you should take everything with a lighter mood. You won't be able to change England in one day or even a year! And if on the first day, while all you hopes are still up, you're already too serious what will it be when after three months of hard work you discover that nothing had really changed and that every single thing you launched is still only a few inches away from where it started?"

Jane looks at her sister.

"You are joking I hope? You can't really believe that nothing will change…"

Lizzy stood up and sat on her sister's armchair's armrest.

"I don't know anything about the future, dear, but I know that there were other women who tried to change our lot and that, till now, they all failed. And I would not like to see my beloved preferred sister losing all hope and despairing because what she wanted to build has just collapsed."

Jane shook her head and looked at her sister, despair in her eyes.

"But it's our duty, Lizzy! If we who have the chance don't do anyth…"

Elizabeth hushed her with a finger on the lips. She was becoming quite good at that little gesture. She used it a hundred times a day to hush her husband's stupid explanations about this or that… She hoped that he would soon come out of that phase and accept that she loved him as he was faults –_imaginary and real_– included.

"I don't ask you to stop, Jane! I ask you to take into account that what you are trying _could_ fail! And if it fails, I want to be able to believe that I will still see laughing eyes in my sister's face!"

She took her sister head in her arms and let her lend against her chest.

"I don't want you to invest too much hope in that feminist battle you've just launched. I want you to do what you believe is necessary but with, somewhere in the back of your mind, the anchored certainty that your happiness is _not_ depending of the success of that crusade! You have your family, your husband and soon your children to compensate everything!" She pointed at the papers and files and demands.

"We have done wonders this very morning, we have seen dozens of very capable women and we have convinced them that there is hope in what happened and that the future could be different. We even gave them real usable advice to go on with their life. But we are no miracle workers, dear! We can do only what this society is willing to let us do! If everybody is against us, it-will-fail!" hammered she.

"And even if it fails, there are always those other, traditional, parts of our life where we still have a chance to be happy!" She looked her sister in the eye. "If-we-let-ourselves-be-happy!"

A hint of a smile came on her sister's lips.

"You know me way too good, Lizzy! I wonder if I know myself as good as you know me…"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Probably not," answered her sister. "And you probably know me better than I know myself and that's why I need you and you need me…" She smiled and her eyes sparkled even more. "Because together we are stronger and better and more efficient Bennets! And the world needs us Bennets at our best!"


	52. London Encounters

Still in London...

* * *

**Chapter fifty two: London encounters**

* * *

**London. Friday the eleventh September.**

* * *

"You can't be serious…"

d'Arcy hid a smile and looked at his wife with his best innocent look.

"Of course, I am! It's time for me to crouch out of this bed. I have a lot of preparations to do and a bed is really not the best place to do them…"

Jane looked toward the heavens.

Men were clearly _not_ reasonable creatures. She had long thought that her father was an exception and that _he_ was an uncommonly unreasonable patient when ill.

But clearly that husband of hers was even more prone to forget his health to go on with what he believed his normal activities.

"You almost died…"

"I clearly survived and I'm able to stand on my feet…"

"With the help of two of your guards!"

He shook his head.

"Indeed and where's the problem, dear? I'll work even if you force me to stay in bed. I have too much to do before…" He stopped and bit his lower lips. He had said nothing but she knew that some very important decision had be made and that he had still to confess it to her.

Jane shot him a dark look.

"Well even if you have an enormous workload to handle, you're still way too injured to do them all by yourself. You're still not definitely saved…"

He grasped her hand and pulled her against him.

She was reluctant but he was able to kiss her and soon she found herself cradled in his arms.

"My love, I'm _not_ a reasonable man! I have done lots of foolish things in my life and standing up too early after an injury is not a first in said life." He sighed and showed her the scar on his left arm. It was a recent scar and it was already almost invisible. "And you can't say that I'm not healing well. Never before had I scarred so smoothly and you said yourself that my injuries in my back are even better…"

She sighed and shook her head.

"I should have lied! Perhaps then…"

He chuckled and kissed her lightly on her lips.

"You're unable to lie efficiently, dear, you know that! You're the only woman I ever encountered who blushes immediately when she is even thinking of lying!" He laughed at her frustration. "And I'm the happiest man in the world to have been able to secure such a marvelous jewel!" He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "But you must know now that I'm not an easy partner. I'm strong minded and secretive. And more than everything I'm a reckless worker. I ask a lot of the people who serve me and I feel it my obligation to show them that I do even more than what I ask of them…"

He smiled at her.

"And judging by the time you slipped into the bed last night you're beginning to act quite the same!"

He saw a smile blossom on her lips.

"Indeed I had a lot to do but it was also in the hope to find you soundly asleep…"

"I was not!"

"Your actions left no doubt in my mind."

"I was very reasonable last night," insisted he. "I had much more on my mind but I repressed myself in an awful and unusual way!"

It was her turn to chuckle.

"Poor dear! If I remember well it was me who stopped your more _direct_ attempts…"

"Not true, I…"

* * *

It was difficult.

His back and every other part of his body _were_ hurting. In the case of his back, _badly_ hurting!

And even if he knew how to endure, the fact that he could find no position where he would be without hurt was a difficult endeavor.

He was not sitting at his desk more than ten minutes that he regretted not having listened to his wife.

Clearly it was too soon!

But with their departure within a fortnight had he really a choice?

A smile came on his lips.

And with a little bit of luck, if he stood fast his working day, would he be able to convince his marvelous wife to be even more tender with him next night?

_My, my, aren't we horny these last days, monsieur d'Arcy_? _Who could believe that you are the same man who could be without female company for months_?

A knock on the door forced him to come back to his workload.

"Yes! Come in Géraud!"

Duroc was at his side the following second.

"You're not reasonable, boss. We could have continued to work in the same manner as yesterday. It must hurt hellishly!"

d'Arcy nodded.

"It does but please don't give me away to Jane. If she knew how much I'm hurting she would be all over me and I'd be back in bed within five minutes."

"Which would be the reasonable thing to do!"

D'Arcy chuckled and it did nothing to soothe his hurting back.

"Since when are we reasonable beings, Géraud? Were we reasonable beings I would be dead for years, executed by an angry mob and you would be in the cotton trade as was your father, boring yourself slowly to death…" He shook his head. "We are unreasonable and that's it!"

He exhaled lengthily.

"Let's go to work…" He looked at the clock. "You're early. What's the problem?"

"A guest from Paris with a _very_ special introduction letter from the Big Boss is waiting outside and, if I'm still able to judge people, he won't take 'no' as an acceptable answer."

d'Arcy looked at his friend with a surprised mien.

"And since when do we take such things into account?"

"Since said guest is a special envoy of the government of the United States of America?"

That stopped d'Arcy. Indeed _that_ was an important point! And the fact that this envoy had been in Paris previously only showed that said envoy had taken every possible precaution to get an audience.

He would have no choice but to speak with this American ambassador.

"What's his name?"

"Livingston," answered Duroc. "And he is no second choice. Big game in his country, he held the office of secretary of foreign affairs for the United States a few years ago. They didn't send as Mr. Nobody…"

d'Arcy nodded and looked at the door.

"Let's listen what the United States of America have to propose, Géraud." He smiled at the big burly general. "Please stay. It will help to feel your towering presence at my back…"

A light rasp on the door stopped his speech. There was no doubt in who wanted to see him.

* * *

Robert R. Livingston was not a happy man.

He had been drafted into this mission and when he arrived to France he had had the surprise to learn that while he was sailing across the ocean France had successfully invaded _and_ occupied Great Britain.

Never ever would he have believed that the world's first sea power could be invaded by _sea_.

And now he was facing a very difficult problem: how to influence France when it was clear that nobody in the world had the means to stop its armies?

Armies who where, just now, being prepped to embark to the western continent!

Not only had he lost an important bargaining chip but with seventy thousand men ready to embark to America he could not _not_ fear for his country's freedom.

This d'Arcy had no need for such an army just to pacify the land. George Washington had done it with a few hundred volunteers.

No there could be only one reason for the presence of such an army: France was not only decided to take back what was its property a century ago but it was, at least, searching to dominate what was still free of the American continent.

And, if the situation should worsen in the future, with seventy thousand experienced veterans d'Arcy would have no problem to overwhelm the armies of the United States.

Livingston forced himself to calm down.

He had done his homework perfectly. He knew everything about Napoleon Buonaparte and half the prominent citizens of France but he knew just _nothing_ about this d'Arcy. He and Napoleon came back together from Syria and since then d'Arcy had not once been seen on the French political scene.

Until his invasion and occupation of Great Britain!

Livingston, under his calm outside was boiling.

How could he get to a man he knew nothing of? He had prepared his every move in order to discuss and seduce Napoleon. He knew exactly what he needed to do to get the First Consul attention and sympathy.

But said First Consul was no longer his interlocutor.

"It's d'Arcy's job now" had he said to the new US envoy. "He's responsible with everything abroad and not European. You should found him in London. I'll back all his decisions, you can negotiate with him to your heart's content. He's the man in charge…"

And so it had happened that the best prepared diplomatic mission ever had just fallen into a nightmare of unprepared improvisations.

He was, for the thousands time, resisting the urge to look at his clock when a pair of young women came into the anteroom where he was waiting.

These he recognized immediately.

Not because his underlings had, for once, shown efficiency but because the pictures of the blond one were everywhere from Paris to London. And the brown haired beauty at her side could only be her sister and probable next queen consort of Wales.

He stood up and bowed.

They both curtsied elegantly and responded to his smile with smiles of their own.

"Robert Livingston, American envoy for France, at your service Ladies."

"Mrs. d'Arcy," answered the fair one while her sister said the same with just a more British spelling.

"Don't worry, Mr. Livingston, we won't be long. Just a question to ask to my husband and he will be all yours…"

"I'm sure that having seen you his temper will be much better and it will be much easier for me to state my affairs."

She blushed nicely under the compliment but her eyes looked at him with what could only be seen as distrust.

He kicked himself in the back for his blunder.

He jumped to save the situation. She was renowned for her good heart; he had perhaps a chance to play on that…

"You can't reproach a diplomat to be too smooth, Mrs. d'Arcy. I'm here because I fear for my country's safety and having you as an ally of my people would be a great advantage."

She nodded but he recognized that she was still on the defensive.

"You have no reason to fear for your people, Sir. For all I know we don't go to America to invade you, just to secure what's France's property."

He forced his smile to stay friendly.

This was not going well. He would have to be frank with her. Everything else would work against him.

"France doesn't need seventy thousand men to secure its property, madam. A fifth of said force would be enough. As a representative of the United States of America I _must_ wonder why your husband is about to bring so great a force in our backyard."

She frowned.

"I always believed that France and the United States were friends and allies…"

He sighed.

"Friendship between Nations is a fickle thing, Mrs. d'Arcy. And alliances had been known to adapt to new realities. And the world's new reality is France's overbearing dominance. We've seen how easily your husband overwhelmed the British troops. It is only natural for us to fear that his victory has convinced him that nobody could oppose him…"

Jane d'Arcy looked him in the eyes.

"You're right to have such fears, Sir. As I see it, nobody is able to oppose him!" Her eyes were not in accordance with the smile she shot in his direction. "I'm the living proof of his multiple talents in overcoming oppositions. But, as I said, as of now, your country fears nothing! I'm sure Geoffrey will be able to convince you of that fact very easily."

She curtsied once more and walked to the door opening probably on d'Arcy's office.

"If you'll excuse us, Sir, just one question and you'll have my husband all to yourself."

* * *

"Yes," answered d'Arcy with a smile. "But only if you take Maureen with you. And don't forget if she shouts 'down' you're are on the ground without thinking about anything else. Filthy clothes are replaceable. A brained wife is not!"

"Nobody will shoot at us," said Elizabeth. "We are only…"

"Family," interrupted d'Arcy. "And to get at me or at Fitzwilliam the recent past had shown that you are the best tools. Not counting madmen and would-be liberators, people like your husband and me are always surrounded with enemies. And most of these enemies are rather lousy bastards who won't hesitate to strike at us by using our loved ones. So even if I do believe you're right, don't let yourself be too confident and follow Maureen's orders. I want you both back alive, is that understood?"

They both nodded and, after Jane kissed him, both disappeared through the door.

Duroc did not smile.

"You shouldn't let them take those risks," said he.

d'Arcy shrugged and immediately grimaced.

"I can't stop them being what they are. Marrying into my family is enough of a problem. I won't force them to live a life of restrictions and controlled freedom. I need Jane to be…" He smiled. "Jane! If I restrict her too much she will wither or become restless. I have all confidence in Maureen when it comes to protect them." He chuckled. "Who would have believed that my lovely little Irish volcano would care for the woman who took her place in my bed?"

"She's a kind person. Even Maureen has recognized it."

d'Arcy nooded.

"That she is," said he before looking at his general. "And speaking about kind persons; what's about your daughter?"

"She should be en route now," said Duroc. "I hope to hold her against my heart this afternoon or this evening. I ordered one of our light patrol boat to get them." He smiled at his boss. "Thanks for allowing it."

d'Arcy winked at him.

"What use would it be to be Master of all that power if not to use and abuse it? And Lebrun had a lot of letters to send. It was only a matter of '_joindre l'utile à l'agréable', _my friend."d'Arcy flinched and stopped Duroc with an imperative gesture.

"Don't even try! I'm here because I chose to play the grown not hurting husband. Now I'll have to go through this day without any help."

He sighed.

"Because if I show her that she was right, I'm locked in bed for the next two weeks." He looked his friend in the eye. "And we clearly cannot afford to lose more time, can we?"

It was Duroc's turn to sigh.

"You're an impossible man, boss!"

"Be happy than that you didn't marry me!"

d'Arcy laughed –_shortly_– and pointed a finger toward the door.

"Let's see that envoy, general. I'm even more interested than a few minutes ago in what the United States have to propose to France…"


	53. London Invitations

Still in London...

* * *

**Chapter fifty three: London Invitations**

* * *

**London. Sunday the eleventh September.**

* * *

"Mr. Livingston," said the man behind the desk. "Please forgive my not standing up but if I'm fit enough to sit and work I'm not fit enough to stand up and bow."  
Livingston bowed once more and put an appeasing smile on his lips.  
"I heard about the assassination attempt, monsieur. And I'm quite surprised you're already fit enough to work…"  
D'Arcy eyes became cold and unpleasant.  
"And yet you're here…"  
Livingston nodded.  
"And yet I'm here! I couldn't let the situation go on without trying to see you…"  
"The situation?"  
Livingston forced himself not to swallow.  
Bad choice of words, once more. He was quite unhappy with himself this morning.  
He hated to improvise and he hated even more knowing nothing about the man he was speaking with.  
But he knew quite a lot about his uniformed companion.  
Duroc was reputed to be Napoleon's creature. It was a good thing that he had forced himself into this interview. He had perhaps an ally.  
It would not be too much.  
"We Americans are quite worried about what is happening in Europe…"  
D'Arcy looked at him with a false smile on his lips.  
"Worried? Why should you worry, Mr. Livingston, we just vanquished your old nemesis. You should rejoice…"  
Livingston smiled back.  
"The people at home are probably rejoicing but I fear to take part with it. Invading Great Britain and pushing her Majesty out of the land could become a very important problem for the United States. If King George should decide that America is the best place to settle and prepare the counter strike, our situation could rapidly worsen…"  
D'Arcy's smile became more genuine.  
"Indeed it could, Mr. Livingston. The best English strategist promotes a regaining of the rebellious colonies into the bosom of the Crown as a prerequisite of a successful 'Reconquista'…" His eyes became very cold. "And if such a thing should happen we would be forced to forget our old friendship in order to be efficient enough to crush our enemy for the second time!"  
Livingston shook his head.  
"Such a thing won't happen. We have a professional army now…"  
D'Arcy's smile became more predatory.  
"Even if your army was able to crush –_and even that not easily_– a few thousands bad equipped natives, it doesn't mean that your men would be able to stand against a powerful and motivated…" he stopped and smiled," …British army."  
The threat was there! Clearly enunciated and without the least doubt uttered to impress him.  
And it had been uttered in a way he could only approve.  
God how he hated to be forced to fence against someone he didn't know and who was evidently a master also in the diplomatic field.  
"Your present army is, please correct me if I'm wrong, under the command of Brigadier General James Wilkinson…"  
Livingston nodded.  
"Indeed…"  
"And could you please give us an idea of the forces he commands?"  
Livingston smiled the shadow of his most diplomatic smiles.  
"You will understand that this information, even if I knew the truth, would not pass the threshold of my…"  
"Then let me, in token of our friendship, inform you" interrupted d'Arcy. "He had, as of three weeks ago, seven thousand eight hundred and fifty two men at his disposal. If we include the militias you Americans are so fond of you'll probably get twenty thousand men under arms. But clearly not under one sole command!"  
D'Arcy moved and Livingston saw that he was hurting. But hurt didn't seem to bother him.  
"You probably know by now that I command seventy thousand men here in England and that it is my goal to take these men to Louisiana…"  
"Rumors got to me…" agreed Livingston. "And these rumors are worrying me and my government. Why so many men just to pacify what looks like a rather peaceful country?"  
D'Arcy nodded.  
"That's a legitimate question, Mr. Livingston. And it's even more legitimate if you consider that there's no need to pacify a country if you don't have the goal to steal their land from the original owners. So you and your government are right, I'm not taking my men to America to pacify Louisiana…."  
He stopped talking and only looked at Livingston.  
Livingston swore inwardly. He hated just these situations.  
When he was the one being baited.  
He sighed discreetly and looked at d'Arcy.  
"And why are you taking your men to Louisiana then?"  
D'Arcy accepted his opposite's defeat with grace and a smile.  
"Because I need to end what I began, Mr. Livingston. As long as our British enemies have a stronghold in America we run the risk to see them use it to launch a campaign against our American possessions. And I trust the British to choose the day to invade Louisiana with uttermost care in order to embarrass our European dealings. So the only way to be sure that this will never happen is to launch a preventive strike against the British American colonies."  
He looked the US ambassador in the eye.  
"And with seventy thousand men I'm sure to succeed even if some unexpected Anglo Saxon solidarity should blossom between the Crown and some lately rebellious colonies…"  
"Such a thing will never happen," protested Livingston.  
"I'm sure you believe it and I'm even surer that my seventy thousand men will ensure that everybody in America does partake in your faith…"  
Livingston exhaled loudly.  
"This is madness, monsieur. You are threatening a friend and an ally."  
"I'm threatening nobody, Mr. Livingston. I'm just uttering the truth and giving advice. I'm no fool, Mr. Livingston and I know quite well why your government has sent you. I know that you're quite upset to be forced to negotiate with me when you were so well prepared to negotiate with the first Consul of France."  
D'Arcy's smile increased.  
"And it would probably have been easier for you to negotiate with him since he doesn't believe in an oversea Empire." He shook his head. "He wants Europe, the whole of Europe and to get it he would have been ready to forget that France's future is also abroad. I'm not ready to forget it _ever_. Soon France will need the riches of Louisiana. We are at the brink of an economic and industrial revolution, Mr. Livingston. Soon we will need all the natural resources we can get. And transporting them from one end of the world to the other will be, with each passing year, easier and more profitable. So France needs to secure every resource we can find and that as quickly as possible."  
His eyes shone with mirth.  
"And I'm not deaf enough not to have heard the voices of some of your fellow Americans who look at French Louisiana and only see a land to be taken from its legitimate owners…"  
"My government…"  
"Has done, does and will do nothing to stop them!" interrupted d'Arcy. "Because your government is in agreement with them. The US government will keep a low profile and deny everything if accused of having helped those 'private' investors. But should we show even a little weakness he will jump at it and 'help' his citizens victims of a foreign and feudal regime… Or what's more probable your countrymen will bother the natives of Louisiana enough to make them loose their temper and slaughter a few innocent people forcing your Government to send troops to avenge those _poor_ victims. And once your troops are settled in Louisiana with -for you- a rightful reason to stay, we will have a hell of a problem to get them out… If we have not already nipped this possibility in the bud!"  
Livingston couldn't help but protest.  
"I must protest, my government…"  
"Has already done it dozens of time when dealing with natives," interrupted d'Arcy anew. "Late George Washington was even the world champion in slaughtering bad equipped savages who just happen to live on land he was coveting! You, as a government and as a people have shown that you won't respect words given or treaties signed if there is a possibility of profit in perjure. I'll do what I can to ensure France will never be a victim of American greed!"  
Livingston was just about standing up when he got help from a very unexpected corner.  
"Mr. Livingston is the envoy of an ally, monsieur. And France can't be compared with a bunch of restive natives who probably only got what they sought," grumbled Duroc. "The First Consul has shown me more than one time that friendship with the United States is a goal he pursues."  
D'Arcy looked at Duroc with a frown.  
"General, untrustworthiness does not depend on who has been cheated but on who's cheating!"  
"Indeed," agreed Duroc. "But even you must recognize that there is a major difference between cheating a bunch of painted loonies and trying to do the same with the most powerful military power in the world…"  
"Which should be China," said d'Arcy…  
"Nobody in his right mind would choose to anger France!" continued Duroc without taking d'Arcy's comment into account. "And I'm sure the United States of America are keenly aware of what happened to France's last enemies!"  
He lifted an eyebrow at Livingston who felt more than awful while slowly nodding.  
"So we should stop threatening each other and come back to the reason of Mr. Livingston's presence here which, if I remember well, he had not yet been able to state."  
Livingston repressed a smile and nodded toward Duroc.  
Thank God he was his ally in this instance. He still had a chance to bring his demand through this meeting.  
"Well, gentlemen," said Livingston while looking at d'Arcy, "as you probably already know the United States has recently had a few problems with Spain while using the Mississippi river and the port of New Orleans. The river is a vital element of our trade and the United States would like to propose a purchase of the city of New Orleans and the surrounding area north of the river. It would guarantee in the future a continuing flow for the trade goods coming down the river…"  
D'Arcy frowned and looked at the US envoy with a very little smile.  
"Mr. Livingston could you please repeat? I'm not sure I understand the reason of your endeavor. Why would a sane mind sell_anything _to a country whose citizens are on a daily basis settling on lands which didn't belong to them and whose government refuses to take measures against those same citizens when they come back to sell the goods they stole in Louisiana?"  
He shook his head.  
"And, on another scale, why should we sell to the United States our only American seaport?"  
He shook his head and for a second hurt forced him to stop talking.  
He soon came back to their conversation.  
"Please Mr. Livingston since it is _my_ goal to settle and to turn to good account our American possessions, why would I sell the gate that would permit France to get the riches of our American lands to the exact people who shut both eyes while some of its citizens are acting as if French Louisiana was nothing else than an extension of the United States? A _terra nullius _they can grab and exploit without remorse?"  
Robert Livingston did not like what had just been said. He and his government knew perfectly well that quite a lot of American citizens had crossed the Mississippi river and had settled on the French side of said river. But _until now_ they were quite sure that nobody in Paris or elsewhere in France had taken that fact into account.  
"You can't hold my government responsible for acts committed by private persons on which the US government has since they settled outside his borders no more means to pursue."  
That got him a feral smile.  
"Don't be afraid Mr. Livinston. We, or to be more precise, _I_ will deal with the intruders and to make them understand that I'm _not_happy with what they have done, I'll use the only language I'm sure they will understand…"  
He looked at Duroc.  
"What have we learned in Syria when it comes to dealing with intruders, General?"  
"We shoot the first few hundreds," answered Duroc with a happy smile. "And soon the others are finding good reasons to go back where they belong to… We never needed more than one or two slaughters to get the idea over that they are not welcome!"  
Livingston couldn't help but admire the way d'Arcy had swung back Duroc from being his adversary to being his happy supporter.  
This man was dangerous…  
And he was clearly not a friend of the United States!  
He would have to dispatch a note as soon as possible to his Government.  
They probably still had no idea that the greatest threat for their hard won liberty was soon to disembark on their southern shores.  
He grasped at what skills he could and decided to go on.  
He was here; he was a diplomat and he was perhaps the only safety his country could get against this man.  
"They chose to quit the United States, Mr. d'Arcy. What happens to them is no longer our problem, I assure you…"  
D'Arcy frowned but said nothing.  
Which was a very disquieting way to let his opposite go on with his attempt to defend his country.  
He went on.  
"You must understand that we have thousands of miles of border with the French possessions and that some of the natives are helping and welcoming those American citizens who trade with them. With our army we are simply unable to secure such a border…"  
D'Arcy's smile became even more feral.  
"I'm very convinced of just that same fact, Mr. Livingstone. And that's one of the reasons I take my whole army with me. Even with seventy thousand men I know I'll have difficulties to survey the whole length of the Mississippi river…" He sighed. "But, if my information is as accurate as it usually is, I won't need to secure the whole length of the border. The control of seven areas will be sufficient to curb ninety percent of all 'foreign' intrusions… And I won't need seventy thousand men to secure these seven areas; my light cavalry has shown here in Great Britain that it's up to the job of scrubbing the pelt of the land." He arched his eyebrows. "So I'll have the brunt of my armies at my disposal to crunch France's enemies… elsewhere!"  
Duroc nodded his approval.  
"We will free our Canadian brethren, Mr. Livingstone," said he. "It will be our foremost duty and doing this we will crush once and for all England's influence in the new world…"  
Livingstone did not like the flame burning in Duroc's eyes. He had seen madmen enough in his life to know that those men could not be trusted.  
But for now Duroc was his country's ally. He had to show a confidence he did not feel.  
"And we would rejoice in seeing it done," lied he. "We could even help…"  
Both d'Arcy and Duroc frowned.  
"Help?" asked d'Arcy.  
"Help" nodded Livingstone while swearing inwardly. He hated himself to be saying this but he felt that he had no choice. He could not afford to exit this office with d'Arcy his declared enemy. It was not what he had been sent to get but it would be better than dispatching home news of a new state of belligerence between his country and France. "We could provide much better bases in order to invade Canada. Boston is much better suited than New Orleans to land troops for such an endeavor."  
D'Arcy nodded.  
"Indeed it would, Mr. Livingstone, but it would mean a more formal association between our two countries… What do you have in mind?"  
Livingstone made no effort to look happier than he was. He had been forced into this very proposition and they both knew the truth. No reason to play a silly game to save face.  
"We are already allies, we could further our alliance into a more… military one."  
That got him a genuine and satisfied smile…  
"That would be at my total satisfaction Mr. Livingstone but your country is a proud new Nation, will your rulers easily accept a subordinate role in this association?"  
Livingstone needed all his self control _not_ to grind his teeth.  
Why could this man not give him even the slight satisfaction of saving face for his country? It could have been played as if they would be equal partners. It could have been…  
"Not that I will demand a formal junior partner status for our American ally," went on d'Arcy. "No I'm fully aware that you'll need to look as our equal partner. But nobody who counts will be misled, Mr. Livingstone. If we sign such a military alliance; it must be very clear that it will be France's overall commander who gives orders and the United States' armies who obeys…"  
Livingstone could only nod. His country had no means to resist France if France should decide to invade it. They would perhaps be finally expelled but it would cost a price Livingstone was not ready to pay again in his lifetime. And with seventy thousand men encamped just over the border it would be foolish to give the impression that the USA were not seeking the alliance they just got…  
"And," added d'Arcy, "if we get Quebec and Montreal back I would be much more disposed to sell New Orleans to the United States of America. We would have another seaport to replace New Orleans, wouldn't we?"  
Livingstone had great difficulties not to sigh. He just got what he was sent to get. At a much higher price than he would have thought himself willing to pay but the end effect would just be the sale: his country would get the insurance that his Mississippi trade could never again be threatened…  
And that was quite an achievement.  
_It's time to quit… Let's part on that last good news…_  
"Well, I think we've found an agreement. I suppose it would be best if, from now on, I work with your staff to produce a first draft for our new treaty?"  
"Indeed," agreed d'Arcy. "But I have two other topics I would like to point out. The first which is of utter importance for the world and the second which could be a very real opening for _your_ country…" He looked his opposite directly in the eyes. "I know that that first point has been lengthily discussed by what you call the founding fathers and that, till now, you have achieved no real consensus on that very point. So, please let it be known to your government that France will not sign an association or an alliance with a country where human beings are treated as slaves. Slavery is no longer an acceptable mean of economic growth and a modern Nation governed by wisdom and progress should stop suing it." He frowned at Livingstone. "We won't force our present allies to abandon that ugly habit but it is sure that we will _never_ sell a part of territory where free French citizens live to a country where they would become slaves just because they are a little darker than everybody else…"  
Livingston could only nod hoping his face wasn't showing that he was scared shitless. This very point had at more than one occasion threatened to split the States into two opposite factions. Two belligerent opposite factions!  
Bringing this news could very well shatter the delicate balance of power of his country. It could be the death stroke to…  
"I do know" said d'Arcy "that there is a lot of bad blood in Washington between pros and contras on this problem. But as I have seen here in London, some decisions are often more easily made if it appears that a foreign power is forcing your hand. On this point let your colleagues be very conscious that for France slavery is not only a fact of the past but a proof of barbarism and a very loathsome practice. No friend of us could remain such while human beings are sold or beaten to death by people just because they believe themselves better!"  
"It will be difficult…" said Livingston.  
"But not impossible, Mr. Livingston, not impossible at all. We did it and we do believe that our country is a better one for it." D'arcy's eyes became hard as flint. "You should perhaps try it in your own household…"  
Livingston was, for a few seconds, unable to speak. What could he say. His slaves never complained but then would he if he were somebody's salve complain?  
Probably not…  
D'arcy closed his eyes and took a few seconds to breathe heavily.  
"But there I come to the second point I was willing to include in our little exchange. As a token of my willingness to transcend my former hostility."  
He looked at Duroc who walked to the wall and put a new map in place.  
A map of the western continent.  
A map where there was very big blue surface going from the Mississippi river to the pacific ocean.  
"As you can see this is not a map of former French Louisiana. This is the map of what I secured for France these last years for France."  
Livingston could only shake his head.  
"There are quite a few Spanish territories you consider yours there…"  
"I don't consider them mine, Mr. Livingston. They are mine. Or I should say they belong to France!"  
D'Arcy looked at Livingston.  
"What do you know about the Treaty of San Ildefonso?"  
"Not much… It was an alliance between Spain and France against the United Kingdom?"  
"Indeed… It was that. But not only. It was a military alliance but it was also a way for Spain to trade of a part of its oversea problems in North America in exchange of lost possessions. I was there, Mr. Livingston and even if everybody saw Berthier negotiating for France it was _me_ and my scheme behind the scene. Because I had a real idea about what was in the best interest of France! So I traded Louisiana and a great part of Spanish North America against a few nothings like a kingdom in central Italy and whole of the British Isles in the Caribbean sea!"  
D'Arcy smiled at the US envoy.  
"As you see I got half a continent against Tuscany and a handful of islands only a major sea power will ever be able to defend. But since Spain believes herself as exactly such a major sea power, everybody came out of this bargain sure that he was the winner…"  
D'Arcy raked his hair with his left hand while closing his eyes and swallowing. Clearly he was hurting.  
"I should perhaps…" said Livingston.  
D'arcy shook his head.  
"Soon, Mr. Livingston, soon but not yet." He tried to smile. "Sorry, Mr. Livingston but clearly I should have listened to my wife this morning…"  
"There is a last important point I'd like to define and I couldn't let you quit this negotiation without letting you know that, if the price is right, I'm very much in favor of selling the southern part of the present French North America. But such a bargain could only be considered between allies and friends…"  
Livingston looked at his opposite and nodded.  
"You want us between you and Spain…"  
"Indeed, since we will share quite a long borderline I believe it would be in France's interest to have only one neighbor to watch. It's much safer."  
"There's British America…"  
"Not for very long, Mr. Livingston. Not for very long. I'm convinced that before this year ends there will be no longer a red frock West of Ireland…"  
He looked at the map.  
"Please convey my offer to your Government, Mr. Livingston. Soon France will have thousands of troopers in Louisiana. I really hope to get most of them back to Europe within a few months. I do believe a peaceful neighbor would help to limit our future military attendance in America…"  
He smiled again while closing hos eyes.  
"I'm sure, if your offer is sound that we could consider a real bargain which could benefit to both sides…"

* * *

As soon as Livingston was gone Duroc called four men and commandeered d'Arcy back to his bed.  
"No comments Boss" said he. "Or I'll send a message to your wife!"


	54. London Invitations (2)

At Gardiner's...

* * *

**Chapter fifty four: London Invitations (2)**

* * *

**London. Friday the eleventh September.**

* * *

Duchess Waintree just smiled at the maid who had opened the door and who was now looking at her with a little too much awe in her eyes after having glanced at her card.

Gardiner's maids could read. At least those in charge of encountering the guests.

Quite a surprise there. Were they hired because of it or did the family provide the teaching? She would have to inquire a little more into this family's habits. After all the Master of this House would, very soon, be one of the most important people in England.

A very useful relation indeed!

"Please could you announce Duchess Waintree to Mrs. Gardiner? One of my people should have announced my call earlier in the day. I hope I don't disturb the household."

The maid curtsied and shook her head.

"Certainly not, your Highness. Your man came and you are awaited." She slipped herself behind the Duchess. "If I could take care of your belongings, the family is awaiting you in the blue parlor. Mr. Trend will show you the way…"

And, as on command, a very stylish butler appeared a few paces away from the door.

He bowed and invited her to enter the great hall.

"If Her Highness would allow me to show Her the way?"

"Please do," answered the Duchess. "I'll follow…"

Another bow and an invitation to walk toward the right.

She followed and soon he was opening a door where quite a few ladies, from very young to mature were taking tea.

They all stood up and curtsied to the incoming guest.

Duchess Waintree arched an eyebrow and smiled at everyone.

"Well, that's done, you have shown that you know your etiquette and that I'm one of those happy few whom you must show your respect even in your own House. Now, could we please just forget about my being a Duchess and consider me as a normal guest? Hearing everyone "Highnessing" me all day long is not, I swear, my favorite past time!"

And to underline her will she went straight to Lydia and hugged and kissed her.

"Lydia dear, I'm so happy to see you again… Without you I would probably still be in that awful building or would have died from cold…"

Lydia hesitated for a few seconds and then smiled back.

"It was August, my Lady I doubt cold would have stricken you…"

The Duchess puffed and denied vehemently.

"I'm no longer a young girl, dear. At my age a dump building can kill… And even if I would probably have survived without your help it would have been so much more difficult…"

Lydia curtsied once more.

"I'm glad I could be of service, Madam…"

Once more the Duchess arched an eyebrow.

"My, my, aren't we solemn today? What happened to lively and smiling Lydia Bennet? I'm not quite sure I'm able to recognize her under this serious and grey disguise…"

Lydia let a little smile appear on her lips.

"Times have changed, you Highness, I believe it's no longer possible for us," and she included the rest of the women and girls in this pronoun, "to act foolishly. We have responsibilities now and we have to act acc…"

"Bullshit," interrupted the Duchess in a very unladylike address. "You're still a young lively and lovable girl and it will take years before those 'responsibilities' will become unavoidable. Believe me, you don't need to become a boring opportunist to be of use for your family and yourself."

Lydia opened her mouth to protest but the Duchess was not someone you could stop when launched.

"No protest, Lydia dear. I'm speaking now and I hope that what I'm going to say will be followed by a certain young and lively lady of my acquaintance."

She walked toward the seat Mrs. Gardiner had designed and took place allowing everybody else to sit.

She immediately went on.

"I'm seeing exactly where this is carrying you! You've decided that you'll try to have a better match than your elder sisters and now you're probably roaming all the almanacs of European Aristocracies to find the best suited suitors…"

She saw Mary and Kitty's looks and nodded.

"Indeed I knew it…"

She sighed.

"That's an open door to disaster, Lydia dear. You can't prepare a common life with books and intelligence reports. There's nothing better than a good old face to face conversation between interested –_and interesting_– people." She frowned. "I should know, I did exactly what you are doing and the only thing I got out of my endeavor was a title…"

She stopped and made a face before shaking her head.

"No, I'm not telling the truth and I'm unjust with my late husband. I got a lot more. I got a title, I got riches and, what was even more important, I got my freedom. But I was never happy in the _marital_ sense of the term. I was never ever besotted with my husband. We had a deal. He needed a son and I needed…" She stopped and shook her head once more just before chuckling.

"No, let me keep that last secret. Let's just say that I was not interested in anything passionate and I got what I was looking for and it did not give me happiness. Not the sort of happiness your sisters are just discovering. And they, please remember, prepared nothing. It just happened…"

Lydia took advantage of a little lull in the Duchess' discourse to take the floor.

"That's exactly the point, your Highness. They prepared nothing and they got fabulous husbands. They are both happy and have men who spend their time worshipping them. How high is the chance that something like that will occur a third time in the same family?"

She didn't let anybody answer for her.

"The chance is equal to nothing," said she a little shrilly. "I'm condemned to…."

The Duchess made a little hand gesture while frowning and Lydia stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"Nonsense," said the Duchess. "We are not speaking about an alchemical process! Mathematics has no place in matters of the heart. The only thing that counts is you and your confidence in yourself."

She looked Lydia in the eye.

"The girl who came to my help was perhaps a silly and savage young girl but she had an unshakable faith in herself and her future. Where and when did she lose it?"

"Sometime in Pemberley," answered Kitty. "One day she was as usual and the next day we got ourselves a scheming and serious sister who had only one thing in mind: find the best husband for every one of us…"

The Duchess let her smile blossom on her lips. And it was an extraordinary smile. A smile that could lighten a room better than an army of light bearers.

"I see…" said she while looking Lydia in the eyes.

She turned her eyes and she nodded toward the mistress of the House.

"Sorry about that, madam. I know it's untoward to take the floor without being invited to, but I'm rather disturbed by the new Lydia I'm discovering. If you don't mind my advice, there's a disaster in the making there…"

"Why a disaster?" shouted Lydia. "I'm just doing what whole generations of girls have done uncounted times. I'm just looking for a man worth of my attention."

A sign of the Mistress of the House gave her free reign and the Duchess went on.

"No you're not, dear. What you are doing is that you're trying to outdo your sisters in order to get at least an equal match. And that's the reason you're roaming those silly books and reading the papers to found intelligence about all prospective suitors. And, one day, out of despair, because this path will not bring you what you seek, you'll convince yourself that handsome, rich and titled is the answer to your quest. And you'll take the first best that responds to those criteria and do what is necessary to marry him. And since that is not the best way to build a sane relationship with a future husband you'll be unhappy and lonely for the rest of your life."

Lydia looked at her friend and there were unshed tears in her eyes.

"And what should I do?"

Another of the Duchess' smile lit up the parlor.

"Come back to yourself, dear. Be Lydia Bennet again. Forget your silly competition with your sisters. You need a man who shares your interests and your passions but you don't need a husband for quite a few years to come. Take your time, get the best education you can afford and hone yourself to be on the outside the perfect lady but don't lose that flame that gave you the strength to go on and to fear nothing…"

The Duchess took Lydia in her arms and soon there were tears running in her ample bosom.

"You'll see, you can have joy and take pleasure in every new experience without being a silly untoward girl," whispered she. "You have now the means to get everything you want! Don't spend your next years in an unlikely search for the perfect husband. Become the perfect Lydia and the man who will be the perfect match for her will appear one day to snatch her away and give her happiness and satisfaction. If you go on building a false Lydia the only thing you'll get is a man matching the falsity you yourself have built…" She forced Lydia to look her into the eyes. "And you won't like what you'll get, believe me! You won't like it at all!"

* * *

"I would never have believed that poverty could be this extreme…" whispered Jane. "Nobody lived like this in Meryton."

"We take care of our people," answered Lizzy. "Here it seems nobody takes care of them. They are just left alone…"

"To die or to become thieves…" said Jane more to herself than to her sister.

She turned and looked at the group of French doctors who were following her.

"What can we do to help these people?"

The head surgeon, a young and dedicated Syrian who had followed her husband for quite a few years bit his lips.

"We should raze this building and build a new one," said he. "This structure is rotten and it is a perfect environment to give illness and diseases the very best chance to survive. People will die in these walls, diseases will prosper…"

Jane made a face. She knew Geoffrey would not be happy with her to have been in that very place. Not with her being pregnant but then she wouldn't let her children stop her in what was clearly her new responsibilities.

"Janvier?"

Her "aide" was immediately at her side.

"Do we have something else to see this morning?"

"Nothing, madame. Not before lunch…"

"I thought so," answered Jane and looked at her sister. "Let's go see Uncle Gardiner. I want to know what he has in his files according to health and medical treatment…"

* * *

Uncle Gardiner was not present. It was Sunday after all and this was the day he wanted to spend with his family. But Charles Bingley was present and working and there was an unsure silence when they were introduced in his office.

It was Charles who spoke first.

"I'm glad you're here, madame d'Arcy…"

"Please call me Jane," interrupted Jane. "If you start to 'madame d'Arcy' me in every second sentence I'll be pushed into believing that you dislike me…"

"No risk for such a thing to ever happen… Jane. I do still have feelings for you but I'm hoping that someday I'll be able to look at our past _almost _relationship with less suffering…"

"I'm sorry, I was…"

He stopped her immediately.

"Don't, it's my entire fault and I'm coming out of it, really. It's not yet easy but it is much easier now that I have found that Catherine has feelings for me…"

Lizzy and Jane shared an amazed look.

"Catherine?"

"Yes, your sister Kitty… It seems that this very evening in Meryton I was able to enthrall two Bennet sisters at once and, as usual, I saw nothing…" He chuckled and there was genuine mirth in his laughter. "I'm probably the biggest fool roaming the English countryside…"

"And she…" asked Jane without daring pronounce the words.

"No, in fact it was Mary who gave her away… I believe she herself would have stayed mute on that question for a long time more." He smiled at the sisters. "Happily there is a real bond between the Bennet sisters and Mary gave me enough hints to open my eyes…"

"But did you spoke to Kitty?"

"I did indeed… And even if I'm still confused when I'm looking at my feelings I must say that, somewhere, my understanding with Kitty is much easier than it ever was with you dear Jane. You will soon laugh at me but you looked always so perfect. I know now that I was feeling rather unworthy of such an elevated creature as you…"

"Indeed you are a fool!" cried Lizzy. "Jane was, that very night, of the opinion that you were the perfect gentleman…"

"And I still am…" added Jane.

He looked at her with surprise in the eyes.

"I would have believed that you would have given that title to your husband…"

Those words made her laugh out merrily.

"Ohh, no, never! He's _not_ a perfect gentleman, that's for sure and I'm not really sure he is a gentleman at all. He's the man I love but it seems that I needed a rogue at my side and not a real gentleman. It was his passion and his decidedness who won me over, Charles, not his perfection. He never gave me the littlest reason to believe he did not love me, want me or covet me… And even if it is untoward it ignited a bonfire in the elevated creature that pulled her to him much more efficiently than all your perfect manners…" She smiled at him. "It seems we Bennets like our men to be a little more straightforward than good manners ask for…"

He smiled at her.

"Could it be that you are giving me an advice there?"

"As you said, there's a bond between the Bennet sisters, dear Charles, and if an elevated creature like me could be won over by passion and decidedness, don't you think the same is even truer for a lively and passionate girl like Kitty?"

He shook his head and looked amazed.

"So you're not angry that I'm interested in your sister? I would have sworn that…"

"Stop believing you understand anything about women, Charles," interrupted Jane. "Of course I'm not angry. Quite the contrary! If you look at both of us, it's quite clear that you're much better suited to Kitty than to me. And, Charles, I would have married you gladly had you asked these days in Meryton. So it should be quite clear that I _do_ appreciate you very much and having you as a brother would be a real pleasure and a great satisfaction… Kitty is a very lively young girl and she will be, one day, a perfect young Lady. It could be the perfect match…"

"It could?"

"Indeed, Charles, it could… You said yourself that you were not sure of your feelings. Don't persuade yourself that you are in love with her just to compensate the loss you seem to feel about me. She's worth more than just being a surrogate for me…"

He nodded.

"That's also my problem, dear Jane. I'm not really sure if I'm not transferring the love I still feel for you on your sister. That's why I'm unsure of my feelings. Do I start to love her for herself or because I still love you and she's the perfect substitute for you? I don't know now…"

Jane smiled at him and took his hand.

"I can't ask for more, Charles. Wonder long enough to be sure. I would be very upset –_and guilty_– if my sister's happiness should be destroyed because of me."

"She seems to be in love with you, doesn't she?" asked Lizzy.

Charles nodded and his smile was genuine even if a little shy.

"I don't understand much about women but I do believe she and Mary gave me enough hints to let me with a certainty there…"

Lizzy smiled at him and squeezed his arm.

"Well that means that she will probably be happy having you at her side even if your own love was only born out of a…" she hesitated, "…_transfer_."

She stopped Jane's remark with a frown.

"We both know that love can be borne under very different circumstances. And for both of us there was first the love of one toward the other and only afterwards did we come to share that love. Let Kitty's love for Charles ignite her own bonfire in Charles' heart. She's no longer Lydia's reckless accomplice. She has arguments in her favor and she's shown in Pemberley that she is a real kind girl. She should be able to win the man she wants the same way our husbands won their brides. Let's have faith in both their kindness and prepare for the arrival of another interesting brother."

Jane smiled and nodded.

"Indeed you are right. We had to be convinced, I'm not surprised that in Kitty and probably also in Lydia's case it will be her who do the convincing…" She winked at her sister. "And as you know they can be very convincing when they want to be…"

She smiled at Charles and took a deep breath. She felt delivered of a very heavy burden.

Charles would heal and he would probably find solace with Kitty who had shown that she could be a responsible and loving young woman.

Yes, she really felt freer!

"Thanks for your words Charles. They were important for me… But we did come to speak about another problem. Have you ever visited…"


	55. London Revelations

At London Palace...

* * *

**Chapter fifty five: London Revelations**

* * *

**London. Friday the eleventh September.**

* * *

Duchess Waintree was very satisfied with her little visit at the Gardiners.

The two girls had the Gift as well as their cousins and aunt. She had looked in the archives of the sorority and never had she found a mention of that particular strain. Quite a surprising fact that _such _an interesting family had been able to lie low for such a long time and never showed the least trace of the way…

Until now! Because it was very clear to the Duchess that all Bennet daughters were, if correctly taught, able to master it.

Emma and Alicia Gardiner were too young to be sure about their potential but they had it too.

She sighed unhappily.

It was a shame that the eldest would not be able to be shaped to enter the sorority. But with such a protection nobody could force them into anything they didn't want…

And with their husbands there was nothing the sorority could propose that could convince them of the interest of the way.

Duchess Waintree forced herself to think differently.

Times were a changing and it would perhaps be necessary to adjust the sorority's behavior to new facts and new realities.

Perhaps it would be possible to appear in a different light now that REASON had begun to replace blind faith… But going too fast would not be an intelligent move as the disastrous results of the American Branch's actions had shown a few decades ago.

Religious tolerance was clearly not enough to guarantee the safety of the members.

Secrecy would stay at the center of the sorority's philosophy. But perhaps some actions could be tried to gain a better access to some sort of acceptation.

She sighed once more and shook her head.

She would have to take a risk.

No choice there.

She looked at her driver.

"Let's go to the Palace, Ignaz. We have to make an important call."

* * *

"Duchess Waintree?" d'Arcy looked up and frowned.

What could she want? He had, before letting her home at Lydia's request, made a rapid investigation on her and even if the circumstances which had given her access to a title and a fortune could be considered as unusual, there had been nothing particularly intriguing in what his agents had found of her life.

"And she says it's important?"

"Indeed, monsieur," answered Benevento, his personal man servant for quite a few years now. "And she came directly to me…"

And so chose to went over all the barriers a well oiled bureaucracy could build in front of men of Power.

D'Arcy sighed. He had a feeling… One of those gut-feelings which, from time to time, made him do unusual things. Such as receiving an old Lady whose only credential was an unusual friendship with one of his sisters.

"Let's hear what she has to say, Benevento. But let me know immediately when my wife's back. I'm more tired than I will ever admit and I'll stop working as soon as I have a good reason to quit!"

Benevento smiled and bowed to his master.

How strange life can be sometimes.

Nobody, not even his mother –_and she had never doubted that her son would, some day, become an important gentleman_– would have bet a schilling on him becoming the trusted manservant of one of the most intriguing –_and dangerous_– men of Europe's new political leadership.

But then who could have believed that he would need his most terrible period of bad luck to be at the only place where he would have a chance to meet d'Arcy?

Nobody and even himself, Gianluca Benevento had been at the brink of despair when d'Arcy's decision has changed his life.

He closed the door of his master's office behind him and walked swiftly toward the parlor where the old matron was waiting.

He made the traditional sign to ward off the evil eye.

Because _that_ matron was the unusual matron he had ever encountered.

A witch, he was sure of it…

A servant –_a disguised bodyguard to say the truth_– opened the door and let him into the parlor where the Duchess was waiting while sipping a cup of tea.

She smiled at him but her eyes were as cold as the first time she had looked at him.

"_Monsieur le Proconsul va vous recevoir, Madame_, » said Beneveto with a deep bow. « I'll show you the way… »

* * *

He let her in and closed the door.

He hoped he could cope with her, because he rather liked being with this curious aristocrat. And his present condition was not the best…

He shook his head and smiled.

Physically it was true… But mentally never had he seen d'Arcy so…_ Free_?

As if he had forgotten to be dedicated and concentrated on his next task.

As if he was enjoying life…

Which, without a doubt, he was…

He chuckled for himself and went to his own office where he would go on reading reports and preparing memos for his master about the situation in the Middle Sean and Turkey.

Memos all written in Corsican…

Which was the only reason why, one day, five years ago he came to meet the man he falsely believed being a Turkish trader.

It was the end of the worst period of his life.

He had just lost everything. His ship, where he was only the "bosco" but his ship nevertheless! Most of his mates had been killed by the carronade of the English frigate and what was still alive had fled with difficulties toward the next best Algerian haven where their _dear_ friends had looked at them, smiled and confiscated the remains of their ship and "condemned" them for piracy…

He already knew that a pirate's word was not worth a damn but he was still believing that there was something as a pirate's ethics.

He now knew that there is no such thing.

There's only one thing in a pirate's life: greed.

So, after having sold so many poor people to those same slave traders was it his turn to be a slave at Cairo's Slave Market this awful day where he really had forlorn all hope.

And that was when they first met.

Those sharp blue eyes had looked into his soul and he had ask him if it was true that he was Corsican. He had agreed without thinking about the consequences and ten minutes later he was walking, bereft of his irons, behind his new master.

And he now knew that it was only because of his Corsican origins that d'Arcy had bought him. He was the only one on sale this dreadful morning. And knowing the trade of most of his fellow countrymen he had been the first for a very long time.

But even if there was gratitude in their relationship, there was also what could be called a common easiness. They had found each other and they had liked what they had found.

The Mediterranean pirate he once was had opened quite a few interesting doors to d'Arcy and d'Arcy's ambition had pulled the young Corsican bandit to Heights he would never have dreamt of.

And he liked it even more since he had grasped why d'Arcy had chosen him that fateful day in Cairo…

Nobody had known that d'Arcy had a complete understanding of Corsican… The day Benevento had learned that Napoleone Buonaparte would be the leader of the French Egypt expedition he had believed that he had, finally, understood why a well studied man like d'Arcy had taken the time to learn Corsican…

It was so clear and extraordinarily clever. Whatever Napoleon would utter in his very own language d'Arcy had been able to understand.

What a tremendous advantage. What an extraordinary wise endeavor.

But nothing had happened as he had imagined it.

Benevento had been amazed when he had finally heard that one of the first things d'Arcy had said to the future Consul had been said in Corsican…

And then he had looked at Napoleon's eyes. And he had seen the frown disappear to see pleasure and respect appear. And, at that very moment, he had understood how d'Arcy's mind was working.

He had asked him a few months later and the answer he got had confirmed his suspicions.

"Never spy on a man while there's a chance to win his trust and confidence, Benevento…" He had shaken his head and looked him into the eye. "And, when dealing with a dangerous predator, never forget the only advice you'll ever need: don't trust him entirely because his agenda will never be a normal one and, even more importantly, never give him any reason to mistrust you…"

And Benevento had taken _that_ advice very very seriously!

* * *

Geoffroy d'Arcy did do the hint of a bow and his smile was genuine if strained.

"My apologies for not standing up your Highness, but in my presence condition moving too much is not the most intelligent thing to do…"

The duchess smiled back.

"Not to mention that each movement must hurt like hell…"

He showed teeth and nodded.

"Not to mention that, indeed…"

Immediately after she sat and the guards drifted back toward the northern wall where they would not hear what's being said but see everything, he frowned at her.

"I won't hide that I'm surprised by your visit. I see no reason for it…"

"Thank you for your kind treatment of an old Lady?"

He shook his head, slowly and while being careful not to strain his neck muscles.

"Not now and not yet, your Highness. You're either too late or too early. And I doubt that a woman of your standing could make such a mistake without perfectly knowing what she's about to do…"

It was the Duchess' turn to nod.

"Indeed I have a further much more important reason to bother you while you should still be in bed curing slowly your injured back…side…"

She got a smile for that.

"It's also my wife's opinion and, if I'm truthful, with each hour spent in this armchair it's becoming more and more mine."

The Duchess took her purse and placed a few things on the immaculate worktable facing her.

"This could be of help…"

He looked at the three little bottles and the two little round boxes that looked like candy boxed.

"How so?"

She pointed toward the bottles and the boxes.

"These are remedies, very strong remedies and, if you use them you could be up within three days."

He frowned.

"I'm already up…"

She looked at him and only her own experience got her the strength not to look down under his fiery glare.

"But you won't tomorrow and you know it as well as I, monsieur d'Arcy. What you did today will have a price and that price will maintain you in bed for two more weeks… To say the least!"

She knew she'd stricken a sensible cord when she saw him frown.

Her little exaggeration were confirming his own fears. He should have waited two days more. And the nice healing process he was undergoing had probably been disturbed by his unwise decision.

He was strong and healthy and he had that same 'special' aura his wife and sister had… And in his case it was even stronger…

So could probably stand up in less than a week but she wasn't going to tell him that. Not while she needed him willing and eager to listen to her.

He didn't answer and she could let her thoughts wander. Wander around that unsettling protection this man had got. Had he been the only one she would have bet on eastern magic. But since his wife and sister had the same…

She would have to go to Pemberley. It was the only place where they were together for a long time –_London excluded but she knew everything about the City and there was definitely nothing in there to grant something as powerful as that_– and it would be there that she would find what she was looking for.

His eyes went back to the bottles and she knew she had won.

"And these drugs will help?"

She nodded.

"You drink one of those each morning and each evening and you let your lovely wife tend your back with the balm of the boxes and I guarantee that in three days you're cured."

"Cured? As in able to move, walk, run?"

She shot him a mischievous smile.

"As in doing every bodily exertion you can think of without the least ache or hurt…"

That got her to him and this time even his eyes smiled sincerely at her.

"That would be a real miracle, your Highness. How is it that such drugs are not freely available on the market? You could be a rich woman…"

"I'm already a very rich and influential woman, monsieur d'Arcy. And it would not be in my best interest to gloat about my possibilities in this particular field of human knowledge. A lot of my fellow healers have met an untimely death on the stake… I'm not willing to meet the same fate!"

He looked at her for a long time.

"I have the means to order you burned immediately…" said he after a very long thinking period.

"Indeed you have, monsieur d'Arcy. But if you should decide to go into the witch hunting business you must consider that you would have to deal with your wife in exactly the same way as y…"

"You won't say a word more…" said he and it was only because she had been prepared to his outburst that she had the strength not to jump back.

She looked him in the eyes and held her ground and met his threatening glare with an equal powerful will of her own.

"She has the gift, monsieur d'Arcy. As has every other woman of her family!"

That made him frown.

She used remorselessly the little advantage he was giving her.

"You married yourself into a very interesting family. It seems your new sisters and mother in law have everything that's needed to be a perfect follower of that peculiar train of human knowledge. None of them is trained but they have the Gift and the Church has never been very reluctant to burn even on a simple denunciation…"

To her real amazement her last remark made him laugh. A strained and controlled laugh but a genuine one.

"Well, I threatened you and you threatened me," said he after a few seconds of laughter. "Now let's come to business. What do you want?"

She relaxed.

"I want to help you and I want you to help me! That's the whole truth of the matter, monsieur d'Arcy. I will admit that, a few days ago I was only wanting to get from you what I wanted without giving anything in return and to do so I had every intention to influence you wife to get to you but since she has the Gift that's a way I definitely can't follow. So I'm here with another proposition."

He sighed.

"So you tried to use my wife?"

She nodded.

"That's the traditional way, the secret way… It was always an excellent way to get within hearing distance of the Mighty Rulers of the Land. But we cannot influence somebody with the Gift and since she genuinely loves you…"

"She does?"

She nodded.

"Yes and you really don't need my opinion on that matter. And to answer your next question, if she would not have loved you I would have proposed her to become one of us and to teach her. In the past it was always the best way to ensure the collaboration of an ambitious wife…"

He frowned.

"And because she loves me…"

"She's of no use to us. She won't use her talent against you that's a given, monsieur d'Arcy. We women have very few scruples when it comes to protect the people we love. And when it happens that one of us finds true love…" She made a face. "Let's just say that it makes thing so much more complicated…"

He smiled at her.

"I could still have you burned, your Highness. I have of last quite a few influential friends within the Church, I'm sure I could protect her against their interest."

"Yes you could and no you won't… Not now that you have over thought every implication my little revelations have given you. I'm much more interesting alive than dead, and I'm quite sure you already know it."

He nodded and pointed at the bottles.

"It could all be a pretty lie to get me to drink those drugs and poison myself like the total fool I would be if I just listened to you…"

She agreed.

"That's why I brought you twice the needed quantity. You can test it on somebody else with the same injuries as you. You'll see that it's not a poison and that it heals rather quickly rupture wounds and torn flesh."

She looked him in the eye.

"I know that you didn't lose a lot of soldiers while invading England and that you are more than reluctant to 'test' drugs on your fellow soldiers but there is this young captain who got shot by these highwaymen… He's going to die within the next hours." She pointed at the bottles. "With one of them he could be saved… Let's test it and you'll know before this evening what's the matter with my drugs…"

He sighed.

"You are tempting me and by tempting me you are manipulating me…"

She smiled at him.

"That's the old traditional way, monsieur d'Arcy and in most cases it's still the best way to get what we want… Not everyone is protected… by love!"


	56. London Whispers

At London Palace...

* * *

**Chapter fifty six: London whispers**

* * *

**London. Friday the eleventh September. Late evening**

* * *

"I'm a fool…"

She smiled at his comment and kissed his shoulder blade.

"Indeed you are, husband!"

He snorted.

"A good wife would have denied my words and given me comfort…"

"A good wife tells the truth and the truth is simple: you are a fool who overstrained himself in order to show off…"

He shook his head.

"I will agree that I overstrained myself but not that I did it in order to show off. It was…" He hesitated. "It _IS_ necessary…"

She went on slowly and cautiously massaging his hurting back. She knew it must be hurting but he has insisted. He needed his muscles to relax and –_said he_– only her touch had that relaxing effect on him.

She didn't ask further. She knew it was none of her business to ask questions about his work.

"I'm a victim of my success," said he finally. "This campaign went way too easily and I fear that our beloved First Consul is thinking about depriving me of my armies…"

"Didn't he give you those armies till next year?"

"That was the promise but we all believed that my campaign would take till the end of Fall. And with the incoming winter there would have been no use for armies in Europe." He sighed. "But with everything done within the summer it _must_ blossom in Napoleon's mind –_as it would in every clever strategist's_– that there are still three months where campaigning could be easy. Especially if you concentrate your war efforts on South Eastern Europe and the Ottoman Empire… And what's worst, I know that those said armies are very eager to go on showing their battle skill to the world. And campaigning in America has definitely not the glamour for my officers and even for my soldiers an European campaign would have."

He sighed a little louder.

Most of them have other reasons to look at southern Europe. They were with me and Napoleon in Syria and they have been frustrated when the Directory called Napoleon back to France. They believe their work has been interrupted and they long to end that peculiar part of warfare…"

He looked at her and she saw sorrow in his eyes.

"It was not an easy war, there. The Ottoman rulers have no scruples when it comes to sacrificing people or soldiers. We butchered them by the score and they kept sending more… It was…" he hesitated. "Difficult. Even victorious we all have that ugly feeling that we've stopped too soon… That we could have done more…"

She stopped him with a kiss.

"Stop rewriting past History. You did an extraordinary feat there and even more so here. You've shown to the world that you are a military genius…" She came nearer and whispered in his ear.

"And I'm the proud wife of said military genius and I love, I love, I love him…"

He smiled at her and she felt him relax.

"I love you too, dear and I'm feeling so guilty when I surprise myself wishing my boss would call back my armies in order to give me more reasons to stay with you here in England. I see myself doing nothing but looking at your swelling belly and proving you with each passing moment that I'm a bewitched husband…"

She kissed him again.

"I'll be with you wherever you go… Don't stop dreaming because we're together. I love you with your dreams and without them you would be only a shadow of yourself…"

He looked at her.

"I don't deserve you…"

She smiled at him.  
"That's a truth, there, husband but luckily for you I'm willing to be at your unworthy side for the rest of my life."

He closed his eyes and basked in her ministration and love.

"I couldn't ask for more…"

* * *

Isabelle Maria Ruthledge, born d'Arcy, sighed heavily while looking at her new surroundings.

It reminded her of her youth, when she lived in her father's castle.

It was not a kind reminder.

"Quite ostentatious, isn't it?"

She looked at her husband.

"We are in the Royal English Palace, dear, if there's a place where a government would do his best to show his might and wealth wouldn't it be the very place associated with his rule?"

Antony Ruthledge smile at his wife.

"Seems it didn't suffice to protect them against invasion…"

She nodded.

She knew that wealth and riches would never protect oneself against a greedy and vengeful mob… She had lived it through and some nights she still awoke crying for a world that had deserved its fate but which was, nevertheless, the world she was raised to believe "normal"…

"The only thing that protects you is the trust of the people you govern," answered she. "Mamma and I we were saved because in a very ugly way our people knew that we were _his_ first victims. They helped us because they knew we shared their lot for long years."

He hid his preoccupation under a very British self control but he hated it when she was pushed into thinking of _him_. That father of hers still haunted her and he still surprised her looking at him suspiciously when he was playing with his daughter.

He really hoped that some day she would find in herself the strength to trust him with his daughter but he feared that it was a forlorn hope. Living under the law of such a monster did ugly things to the people who were forced to endure his rule.

And even if Isabelle was the kindest mother he had ever encountered she _did_ look at him with more than distrust in the eyes.

Not that they did not love each other…

They did he had had ample proof of their shared bond. But when it came to his relations with the kids there was always the shadow of her father looming over his shoulder.

As if he could do to his little darling what he did to Isabelle…

But then there was nothing he could do to heal his wife but prove to her that a man could be kind and loving.

One day, perhaps, the kindness of her present would erase the shadows of her past.

He stopped just before sighing. He could not afford to show weakness.

Not now and not under the roof of her brother.

He had been the daily witness of what her father had done of her and he was more than anxious to discover what said father had done of his second son.

Clearly he had found ways to take revenge on the world which were not open to his wife. And listening to the reports of how the "invasion" had taken place he had hope that, as it was for his wife, the reaction had been to become better and kinder. But one never knows, his dead father in law had been a master in hiding his true nature. It could be the same for his son.

She finally smiled at him and he was relieved.

"There is a real solidarity between victims, you know…"

He raised his eyebrows and smiled back. He knew she needed to see his smiles. He had discovered early in their common life that a longer period without a reassuring smile could push her into fits of anxiety and fear.

He had learned to show his love and consideration.

"You never spoke of these events before… Why now?"

Some part of him knew the answer to that question. They had had enough problems to overcome her familial problems… Perhaps in a distant future they would find the time to treat the unimportant problems like the French Revolution and the butchery of her family and friends…

She shrugged at his question.

"Call it rehearsal. I'm sure he asked me to come to hear about Mamma's last years. And he will probably want to know what happened exactly to him and his brother…"

He shook his head.

"We don't even know if it's him who's behind that invitation…"

She snorted.

"If you want to call it so, you have free reign but in my opinion it was more a convocation than an invitation. Look at the way the Scottish Crown moved Heaven and Earth to get us on the way. Had we refused they would have forced us…"

She opened her bag and showed him her passport.

"Zero one, zero nine, zero, zero, zero, one… That means that this is the first official document the New Scottish Crown issued. And it's _MY_ passport… If that's not a sign…"

Antony smiled at his wife's anger.

She hadn't been very happy with her brother's late actions.

Learning that her brother was alife thanks to a lawyer's clerk come to hand her out her mother's late properties had not been a very sensible thing. She had been thrilled to learn that her brother was alive but she had also been profoundly angered that he didn't take the time to write her a few personal words.

But what really triggered her present anger was what she called the convocation…

That had been _very_ badly received… Even more so because the new Scottish authorities had made it very clear that it was their very intent to do everything to please d'Arcy's sister as long as she followed _his_ orders and wishes…

He was about to answer when there was a knock at the door.

He looked at his wife and, after a little sign went to the door and opened it.

A brown haired young woman smiled at him when he saw her.

She didn't wait for him to invite her in but crossed the threshold of the room and closed the door behind her.

"Good evening, I'm Elisabeth Darcy and I'm the one responsible for your being here this evening. Nobody but me and the personal secretary of your brother know who are the guests who occupy these rooms. I hope you won't hold a grudge for doing it but it seems that I was the only one impertinent and curious enough to invite my new sister to come and visit her new family…"

* * *

"So he really knows nothing?"

"As said, I'm the only family member who's in the secret. There is one other person who knows and it is his personal secretary –_without whom nothing would have been possible_– who launched very discreetly the whole affair after I asked him to do it." She smiled at her new sister. "I learned a lot about Geoffrey by the way his trusted secretary accepted to please me to get you here. It seems your brother has the gift to create great loyalties in his followers hearts. He knew he was going against his master's wishes but he also knew it was a necessary step. So he followed me and did what had to be done."

She looked her counterpart in the eyes.

"Not even Jane, my sister and his wife, knows about your presence. She was as curious as I when we learned about your existence but she felt his reluctance to see you again. She would have stopped everything had she known what I indented to do…"

Isabelle looked at the young woman facing her.

Legally, they were sisters.

And from what she saw she was, with thirty seven years, the older "sister"…

"Perhaps you shouldn't have," said she after a few minutes. "He could be angered by your initiative…"

She looked at her and she saw daring in her sister's eye.

"And what if? He's not my husband and he never even spoke about you. He probably forgot that he had, somewhere in Scotland, a sister." She smiled mischievously at Isabelle. "It will just prove that I'm better at remembering than he."

She shook her head.

"I did it for me and my younger sisters. We all have heard of your existence and we were all very impatient to make your acquaintance. As the eldest not involved sister it was my duty to arrange a long overdue family meeting. And I'm quite sure, once he's overcome whatever it is that shuns him away from you, he will be very pleased to see you again… He has shown that he has very strong family feelings and I'm quite sure that seeing you will do him a lot of good."

Her husband spoke up.

"But we heard that he was badly injured. Will we even be able to see him?"

"He was up today," answered Mrs. Darcy. "I'm sure that if he agrees to see you, it should be possible to arrange a meeting. If he refuses to see you it won't be because of medical reasons…"

Isabelle opened her mouth to answer but Mrs. Darcy stopped her.

"Please, let's not go into conjectures about why and for what… I'll see with my sister, d'Arcy's wife, how to best arrange things in order to give you an opportunity to speak to each other. I'm sure you have a great deal to speak about and it won't hopefully be about guilt or responsibilities. Just about love and the pleasure to be reunited after so many years…"

She looked her sister in law into the eyes.

"And meanwhile since I heard you have children, we, the bunch of new aunts will demonstrate to the world that it is possible to spoil nephews and nieces in no time…"

* * *

"What do you mean a witch?"

He opened his eyes and frowned.

"As in witchcraft… Magic… You know the business with dolls, needles and love draughts…"

She laughed.

"You're kidding me, aren't you?"

"No, dear, I'm not. She proposed to put her witch powers at my service…"

She shook her head and sighed.

"She really believes she's a witch? My God, she must be crazy…"

He pulled her against him and kissed her.

"No she's not… Crazy I mean, and yes she is a witch. The healing draught she concocted for me _did _save the life of one of my men who was condemned by his injuries." She saw him smile. "I could be up and running in two days. I have just to drink that little medication of her…" He sighed. "Tempting isn't it?"

He felt her snuggle against him. He loved the sensation and cursed himself for the foolishness that put him in the ugly position of not being able to do what he lusted for. But he had given her his word and he knew that his health would be worse if he was unable to master his carnal needs. He would wait…

"How is it possible that a man like you, a man who has studied the sciences believes in witchcraft?"

He snorted.

"Because I saw it used and abused in China. That's a land where such powers are commonly known and used. My concubines used the services of what westerners would call witches on a daily basis. And nothing is done there without the use of astrology and the advice of Feng Shui priest whose only job is to ask the advice of the spirits in order to do things properly… China was a very technological country. Now is moiré and more ruled by astrologers and priests. But that doesn't mean that astrology, Feng Shui and witchcraft are without worth. One can use them freely if one agrees n the price to pay…"

Jane looked her husband in the eye. He was serious and there was not a hint of mockery in his feature.

"And will you use her Highness' offer?"

"No," said he. "Even if I'm obviously tempted. What would you do?"

"I wouldn't either. I don't like her. She's not… forthright?"

"She's a witch in a country where witches are put at the stake. I wouldn't be forthright either," chuckled he. "But you are right she's an ugly piece of manipulator. She loves to insinuate herself in the life of others and make them do her biddings without them even having a hint at what is happening… I'm quite sure that within the healing drugs she has mixed a few other things whose consequences I'm really not going to like."

Jane half stood up.

"She's manipulating Lydia…"

"She's manipulating everybody," said he while pulling her back in the crook of his arm. "But it's not only a question of manipulating Lydia, I do believe she really likes your sister… I believe she has found a fellow spirit in your sister and that she wants to teach her her craft."

Jane was just struck with the foolishness of the idea. Lydia learning witchcraft? It was just ridic…

A shiver went down her shoulder blades.

No it was not! Lydia was her sister and she loved her very much but she was also the most manipulative kid she had ever encountered. She could…

"You just got the whole picture in your mind, didn't you?" laughed Geoffrey. "Lydia would be quite the interested pupil, wouldn't she?"

She nodded frantically. Yes Lydia would love it. She would…

"Don't be too harsh with your little sister," said Geoffrey. "She's young and at the brink of becoming an adult. That time of youth is a very difficult period of life. She's not a bad person and she has an astounding strength in her." He chuckled again. "And she's as stubborn as I was at her age. Don't try to hinder her or you'll get just the opposite result. You must help her, not condemn her…"

"I wasn't…"

He stopped her.

"I know that you weren't. That's because you're a kind and loving person. But there will be moments where you will be tempted to condemn her if she chooses to follow the path the Duchess will propose. Being a Witch is a very lonely and egoistical job."

Jane sighed. Was she even allowed to try? It was Lydia's life after all. Who was she to…

"You are her elder sister and she trusts you," said Geoffrey once more showing that he was able to read her mind. "You must give her the best advice without showing that you would condemn one of her choices. Just try to be as kind and loving as usual and you'll get the best results."

He kissed her.

"And don't tell your mother, it wouldn't help…"


	57. London family reunion

At London Palace...

* * *

**Chapter fifty seven: London family reunion**

* * *

**London. Saturday the twelfth September. ****Morning.**

* * *

"You cancelled everything? But…"

Lizzie stopped her protest with a frown.

"No buts, dear, there are a few people you need to know and you need to know them now!"

"We have so much to do and it's even more important since I'm quite sure we will sail abroad in much less time than formerly planned! We just…"

"Don't have a choice," said Lizzie. "So you stop talking and you come with me!"

* * *

"Ooh…" said Jane who had immediately recognized the woman standing up when she came in. A smile instantly came to her lips. "You came! I am so happy you took that decision. If you hadn't, I fear he…"

She stopped when she saw the look Isabelle and Lizzie shared.

She frowned and looked at her little sister.

"You did it!"

"Indeed," confessed Lizzie. "And I'm quite satisfied that I did it. If we had had to wait your husband's good will we would have met as Grandmothers."

Jane immediately came to her husband's defense.

"He's not…"

"Stop it, Jane," interrupted Lizzie. "I took that decision out of his hands and that's it. We need not know what would have been his reasons to send or not send an invitation. It's done and now stop defending your husband and let's do what I know you were longing at: please meet our sister…"

* * *

"And when did you learn that he was alive and has returned to Europe?" asked Jane while taking, finally, a late breakfast with her new family.

They were all taking a little rest after an hour spend meeting her husband's brother in law and his three very cute and charming nephews and niece.

They were all three well behaved and rather shy but Jane could see that with Lydia, Georgiana and Kitty's help they would soon begin to thaw up and perhaps even find the courage to smile at the aunt pack they just discovered having…

"When his lawyers came at home to bring me the deeds of property of our mother's old estates…"

"Ooh…" said Jane. "And I suppose there was not a little written word included?"

"Not one," answered Isabelle. "It was all very business-like and cold…"

Jane sighed.

"And it angered you…"

Isabelle nodded at her sister in law and smiled at her evident understanding of her brother's –_and hers– _mood.

"Quite a lot," agreed Isabelle. "I was very set on never seeing him again and had the new royal Scottish Crown not been _very_ insistent on our following the invitation; I would still be in Edinbrough."

Jane laughed heartily while imagining the new Scottish rulers sweating blood when discovering that d'Arcy's sister was not inclined to respond to her brother's wish.

"And now it could happen that they got just the contrary since he could take it very badly to know that they insisted in my coming to him. He could not like having to see me…"

Jane immediately shook her head.

"No, it's not his habit to charge other people for his own foibles," said she. "I know why he was chickening out of that reunion and I'm sure, when everything's said and talked about, that he will be glad to hold you in his arms even if it _had_ reopened old wounds…"

Isabelle sighed.

"He won't be the only one…"

"But it will be necessary to heal both of you," insisted Jane. "I helped lifting a burden that crushed him for years but it still hurts him a lot. He feels guilty not having been able to protect you and your mother." She shook her head. "I'm not sure but more than half his personality was probably built on that searing guilt gnawing at his soul…"

Isabelle sighed.

"Our father did quite a lot to ensure that we would never forget him… I'm not proud of it but each day I curse him I don't know how many times. May he rot in hell forever…"

Jane took her sister's hand and looked her in the eyes.

"He's his son but he is not your father. From what he told me he's quite the contrary. He's kind and thoughtful. Always listening to my needs and never, never rash or crude." She smiled while trying to hide a traitorous tear. "For me he's the most perfect gentleman on earth and I do love him rather madly…"

Isabelle smiled at her attempt.

"So I should probably be careful not to believe you, you're visibly not unbiased…"

"I'm his wife and his courting was the most challenging period of my life. He never gave me a reason to fear him. And he gave me every reason to love him…"

Isabelle took Jane's hand in hers.

"I'll give him a fair chance, I promise. I hold no grudge against him –_that awful lawyer incident not included– _and I'll listen to what he has to say, if he has to say anything…" She sighed. "I'm not sure we will be able to speak. The only thing we ever shared is nothing we want to be reminded of. It would perhaps have been better never to…"

Jane stopped her.

"No, don't say anything like that. You were both victims and the torturer is still torturing you. You are the only ones who can really help each other to overcome the memory of your ugly past. Without the other you'll never really heal. You must speak together! Even if afterwards you decide to part and to stop seeing each other it will be because of your own choice not because the shadow of your father is still separating you…"

* * *

"What's your name, dear?"

"Ludivine…" came the shy answer.

Kitty and Georgiana hid a smile. Their little niece was clearly proficient in French as well as in English. Perhaps more in French since she spoke a rather very Scottish English.

"What a beautiful and original name…" said Georgiana. "And where does it come from?"

"It's my grandmother's name," said the little girl. "I'm named in memory of my mother's mamma."

She looked at both 'aunts' and decided that they clearly needed more precisions.

"It's French, you know" said she while rolling her r's in the typical Scottish manner. "Mamma's mamma was French. From Normandy…"

Georgiana nodded at her niece and gave her her most motherly smile.

"We know your uncle, Jane's husband. So we had a forewarning of your mother's origins. And the way you pronounce your name showed us that you speak perfect French…"

Ludivine frowned at her.

"Then why ask where my name comes from if you already knew?"

"Because we were hoping that choosing such a personal matter would bring you to speak with us a little more…" answered Kitty who had her own experiences with upset young girls. "You were just looking shyly at us dear, we were eager to get you out of your little shell…"

Ludivine answered with a shy little smile.

"I don't know you and you are so numerous…"

They smiled back at the little girl.

"That's exactly why we should speak a little more; to get better acquainted."

Ludivine frowned a last time and finally nodded.

"Makes sense," said she finally before sitting up and began counting on the fingers of her hand. "I like riding and playing cards… I hate boys and dancing and I…"

She was interrupted by both her aunts.

"You hate dancing?" said they in one and the same voice. "That's not possible…"

"Indeed it is," insisted Ludivine. "It's a real torture to have one's toes crushed at each movement…"

Ten minutes later Georgiana was at the piano forte and Kitty and her niece rehearsing the first steps of a common known dance…

* * *

"Where is she?"

He was still abed and had no wish to stand up. The night had been very pleasant and the only bad thing had been to awake with her already up and gone…

Benevento smiled while pouring his master's chocolate.

"A sort of family reunion if I have all the information. Seems all the sisters are seeing each other to prepare something…"

Geoffrey sighed.

"I hate it to separate them. They are so near. I hope she won't hate me for doing it…"

Benevento shook his head and helped his master to carefully lie on the side before helping him sitting in the bed.

"Man, it hurts even more than yesterday…"

"There's always a price to pay…" began Benevento but stopped when his master shot him an ugly look. "And you don't need her ever hating you. She really loves you for what you are and she understands that a few events are unavoidable. Your going to America being one of those…"

Geoffrey nodded and began sipping his chocolate.

It was Jane's preferred morning drink and after tasting it he had found it to his own taste. And he loved it when, after having looked at her drinking it he was invited to erase all traces around her smiling lips…

He urged himself to calm down. It was neither the moment nor the place.

He decided to try to change his thoughts by going back to work.

"What's on the schedule?"

"Nothing this morning but you have a luncheon scheduled with the Consul who wished to speak with you about the tax reform. It seems that he and Mr. Gardiner had some funny ideas about a more just tax system…"

Geoffrey smiled at Fate's incredible deeds.

Who would have guessed that Lebrun and Gardiner would have so much in common that they would spend hours together building a new economy based on more justice in tax paying.

And he had the power to let them build it.

"Well that will be a pleasant luncheon. I was full of doubts but Lebrun is a real tax specialist. Each time I'm learning a lot from those two… My uncle will be present?"

Benevento smiled at his master.

"How could he not? I do believe Lebrun even sleeps at Gardiner's. They seem to have a very busy schedule."

Geoffrey crunched into another lemon roll and frowned.

"What do you think of that pair?"

"An excellent working team. Lebrun knows everything about State finances and Mr. Gardiner knows intimately how an economy should work in order to produce the best products at the least price. They should do well to provide us with a balanced economic reform."

Geoffrey's frown increased.

"My uncle could get a real big personal profit out of his position. Does it look like he's taking that road?"

Benevento shook his head.

"No chance there. That man is not interested in personal wealth. It comes his way but he does nothing to hoard more of it. He still lives in the exact same manner as five month ago. The only thing that changed was that he increased his people's wages. Seems you got yourself an honest man on the team…"

Geoffrey smiled at Benevento's remark because Benevento was the dishonest man on the team. And his expertise was great in that business branch.

"Don't worry you won't get empty handed…"

Benevento smiled back.

"I'm not worried! I'm already the richest member of my family and, thanks to your position and our common origin; quite a few other members of said family have gotten smugly little places near the First Consul… Not to forget that I _own_ one percent of the Company! I'm quite sure that honest Mr. Gardiner will do his utmost to provide this shareholder with quite a chunk of profit…"

D'Arcy chuckled.

"You're a bad man, Benevento…"

"I'm becoming better thanks to you, Boss. But I was very far down that road so there's a long way still to travel…"

"Don't hurry, the world is not becoming any better and I will need your expertise for a long time to come."

Benevento who wasn't trying very hard to become an honest French citizen smiled at his master's remark. The world was indeed becoming better and it was only d'Arcy's doing. He had his ears on London's streets and if the French were still not loved and rather dispised it was not so for a certain Frenchman of his acquaintance.

In a rather surprising and devious manner London's crowds had been able to forget his origins to adopt him as their benefactor. The streets were safer than before, the wages were higher and, with most of the Ton out of Town, there were much less visible unfairness on London's streets.

So there was d'Arcy and there were the French.

One using the others to what looked like the benefit of England's poor people.

It was clearly a London thing. Everywhere else in England d'Arcy was just the invaders' general in chief. No difference between him and the others victorious French generals.

But, so far, there was no real unrest.

As if everybody was still stunned by what happened in so short a time. And the fact that most soldiers were not visibly patrolling had helped to sooth the ugly facts if the defeat.

Benevento had all his agents looking for the first whispers and angry shouts and, so far, there was none.

"England's calm, Boss. I'm looking at all my reports and I see nothing that looks like the beginning of a rebellion. It seems you recipes were good ones."

D'Arcy smiled at his secretary's apparent uneasiness.

"I had two thousand years of History to learn. China's rulers tried every possible way to pacify the conquered people and they conquered quite a lot of them and some of the conquests were followed by peace and others by ugly rebellions. I am a supporter of a peaceful take over. It's not always possible but the speed of our lighting campaign ga ve me hope that it would be possible. And, thank all Gods, the local aristocracy came clearly to my help by choosing to follow their King in numbers. It would have been difficult to uproot them if too much had chosen to stay and fight…"

Benevento shook his hand.

"Don't let wishful thinking cloud your judgment, Boss. Most are awaiting your departure. They know you have a symbolic status and they know they will have difficulties to convince their people to raise in arms against the occupation force while you're here to command them. But let you be abroad and soon there will be attempts to raise the flag of rebellion…"

D'arcy made a face and nodded.

"A reason more to stay…" He shook his head and chuckled. "Seems that each day I'm collecting more reasons to stay here in London…"

Benevento chuckled back.

"That's because you're no longer focusing on world politics, Boss. You're focusing on your wife and that's not a good omen. You are thinking of what you're going to lose not of what you're going to gain. And that's the reason why you long for after a lull in your adventurous life. Being a husband and a father is a full time job, Boss, if you don't go on very soon it will be more and more difficult to continue soldiering…"

D'arcy looked at his secretary and friend.

"Did I make a mistake?"

Benevento shook his head vehemently.

"Don't even consider it. You're a much better human being now. And that's an important aspect you'll need to take into consideration. Being a victorious general and a famous politician brings only so much satisfaction. Being proud of oneself and his family gives you contentment and a cause to live for. You'll see it yourself: today you are happy. Yesterday you were only satisfied."

He chuckled even louder.

"And deem the greatest advantage of your present situation: we dishonest collaborators will have so much more opportunities to rob you while you're day dreaming after your wife's… charms…"

* * *

"Since for four of them I'm directly responsible, I could do no less then came to your help and rescue you…"

Antony Ruthledge smiled at the kind man who had –_literally_– extruded him out of the apartment just after a herd of smiling and chatty young women had invaded his kingdom.

"And I'm glad you did," answered Antony. "They were all very kind and pleasant but I must admit that I had some doubt about my utility there…"

Mr. Bennet chuckled and took his new… His new what? He was the husband of his son's sister so he was probably accurate to include him into the club of sons he was actively building.

"They didn't protest a lot when I took you with me, did they? So let's consider ourselves as free to do as we please." He looked at the young man walking at his side. "At some time this morning we'll have to go back and rescue your sons from too much womanly interest but not immediately. I suspect my wife and sister will soon be informed of what my daughters are doing and that they will be unable to resist making a call. Let's give them one more hour to spoil the kids than we will intervene. The Palace has superb stables and I'm sure your sons are as interested in horses as we were at their age. Meanwhile would it be possible that you like books and theater? Because if you do there is the most wonderful library in this Palace and the King parted without taking a single book with him…"

Antony nodded.

"I'm indeed a book rat and astute reader. Thanks to God my father was a better business man than I'll ever be so I have enough to feed wife and children without having to do more than speak twice a week with my manager…"

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but frown at those words.

Ten years earlier he was saying just the same and it had asked for a lot of luck and two very rich sons in law to get him out of what could have been a financial disaster.

"You should be careful. Your daughter will need a dowry and only one of your sons will come to inherit your family business… You should perhaps take some precautions…"

Antony snorted.

"No need! Not any more! My dear brother in law has taken everything into his efficient and meddling hands! It looks as if my eldest will be Earl of some valuable estate in France's Normandy and that my daughter's dowry will be high enough to attract dowry hunters from all over the world…" He snorted again. "It's quite difficult not to look like a perfect idiot when he's around. Luckily he's not perfect and thanks to his social blunders there's still a chance for us poor 'normals' to exist in the eyes of our beloved ones…"

Mr. Bennet who quite liked his eldest son in law came immediately to his help.

"Don't be too harsh, man. He's perhaps not the most social man of our acquaintance, but he has a lot of superb qualities and family is very high in his priorities! So it's no wonder that he took his sister's family's interests into account." He chuckled. "But I must admit that he's not always very subtle in his behavior and that it would benefit in a little honing. And his ways to try to please are often a little surprising if not scaring. Do you know what he did on the morning of my second daughter's wedding? He postponed it without giving even a hint of explanation. You'll imagine Lizzie's mood, I'm sure and…"


	58. London Siblings

At London Palace...

* * *

**Chapter fifty eight: London siblings**

* * *

**London. saturday the twelfth September. Morning.**

* * *

"I should be with him…"

"No," stated Lizzie while taking hold of her sister's arm. "It's their family story; they have to unknot it together. You'll be needed afterwards, not while they speak. You would only hinder and push them into staying silent…"

"But he's…"

Lizzie took her sister in the arms and hugged her.

"He's an adult and it's his sister he will be speaking to. Of course he needs you but he needs even more the opportunity to get over that part of his life story. He will be needing a pair of loving arms but not now and not before they had ample time to speak…"

She looked Jane in the eye.

"And please look at how you behave! He's a grown man and he's the man you just singlehandedly took over all of Great Britain, he should be able to master one little sister?"

Jane shook her head and bit her lips.

"You don't understand, it's something very difficult for him. Something I fear he won't be able to face alone…"

Lizzie smiled at her sister. Who would have believed, a month earlier that under the cool and behaved behavior of her eldest sister such a passionate woman was lurking.

"He's not alone and Isabelle is the only help he'll ever get to really overcome his nightmares. You'll be needed but not now, please believe me…"

* * *

"Well, so you came…"

"Not of my free will, I was invited and all the documents I got pushed me into believing YOU invited me…"

"I nev…"

"I know it's your sister in law who took that affair into her hand…"

"Mrs. Darcy I suppose…"

"Indeed, Mrs. Darcy. There's a young lady with a will of her own…"

He nodded and couldn't help but smile. Indeed it would have been Elizabeth. Jane had probably been as curious as her sister but she would not do something behind his back. She was loyal and she would stay loyal whatever should happen. It was just not in her nature to do things without being frank about them.

Elizabeth on the contrary would have no such scruples. Not with him…

He snorted and looked at his sister.

"You are mamma's image, less the haunted eyes!"

She smiled. It was the first time and it changed the atmosphere of the room.

"And you're a surprise. This morning when I met your wife I wondered what a beautiful young woman like her could find in a d'Arcy but now I know. I always imagined you like I remembered father or brother and never would I have thought of you in such a handsome and brawny body."

He smiled.

"Luckily for me I got the looks from mamma's side. Grandfather was a handsome man if a dandy and a gambler." He shook his head. "Please don't say you were imagining me in the shape of our father…"

She shrugged.

"I have forgotten what he really looked like. And it's not a boon since for me every ugly or rash man reminds me of him..."

A hint of another smile came to her lips.

"And these last months I tried very much to see you in the same light as father…"

He sighed. He knew exactly at what she was hinting. He had hesitated a long time before sending his lawyers. But he just had not found the right words…

"I tried to write a few words to accompany the deeds of property but nothing came out I could handle…"

He snorted!

"'Sorry to have been unable to protect you but you're still in my heart' just seemed not right!"

She shook her head.

"One word would have been enough…"

"Sorry?"

She shook her heads again.

"Love! It was all I needed to know."

It was his turn to shake his head. With enough force to make his all body hurt.

"It would have been an empty word perhaps even a lie. I was unable to feel love at that time. I was just wanting revenge and trying to better my only remaining family's lot was an acceptable way to justify my hatred and my actions."

She looked at her brother and saw hurt in his eyes. Not physical hurt which she knew he could handle well but that other sort of hurt, the hurt that came from a battered soul.

"They did steal from us…"

"As our ancestors stole from them…" countered he. "I should have let it go; I was rich enough to buy estates and land everywhere in France and Europe. But no, I had to have everything back and I did what was necessary to get it back…"

"Did you kill to get it back?"

He shook his head.

"No but I would have. There was that man who was owning our family estate. He had bought it from the State after it had been 'nationalized'. He had gotten everything for next to nothing and he was very unwilling to part with his new wealth. He tried to get rid of me by sending hired goons to kill me…" He chuckled. "He was rather shaken to find their heads in his bed and myself waiting with a bloody sword. I swear he shitted himself and that ugly little fact saved his life. I loved it to chase him out of our house with the rest of his retainers looking at his soiled silk trousers…"

He shook his head.

"I found it very gratifying…"

She looked into his eyes and saw that the hurt was gone to let a very different feeling take his place. A feeling which sent a shiver down her back.

Yes she could clearly imagine how a man could shit himself with her brother looking at him with that glint in the eyes.

"And you got away with it…"

"I had very powerful backings. All those men he was used to get help from just chickened out of reach. At that time and it's even truer today one did not go against the Victors of Egypt. We were very popular and everybody knew that it was a bad idea to stand in our way…" He smiled his most shark like smile. "And I paid them all twice what they paid to buy it. They had no reason to complain…"

He chuckled.

"One even tried to go to court against me. He was soon beheaded because I had proof of some of his behaviors during the Revolution. The Republic definitely does not like 'profiteers'. And people do believe lively examples. No need to say that afterwards all my proposals were soon and speedily accepted."

Isabelle snorted.

"And I suppose you're proud of it… Must I remind you that our father did get his 'new' estates in exactly the same manner? It was because of Grandfather's failing that he got mamma's hand and her dowry."

He looked at her. And there was self hatred in his eyes.

"I'm our father's son, I quite well know it, you don't need to remind me. The only difference is that I got a smooth and handsome shell. But within lays the same evil…"

Isabelle shook her head.

"Your wife believes you're a good man…"

The hatred in his eyes disappeared and she could see love, real love shinning through his wet eyes.

"She's an Angel who sees only the best in me. But that she refuses to see my evil sides doe not make them disappear…"

She came nearer and sat on the bed.

"There are evil sides in every one of us. The difference lies in letting them rule your life or not. You still have the choice, you're not our father even if you share his blood and legacy. It's up to you to be an honest human being or a monster. There's still time!"

He sighed.

"That's what Jane keeps saying. But she believes I have already chosen the light and let behind me the darkness. But I know that I chose nothing of the sort. I chose nothing but her love. I could no longer exist without her love for me but that doesn't make a decent human being out of me…"

"Yes it does," said Isabelle while taking his hand in hers. "Our father never sought love. He only wanted power. Power over more things and power over more people… He needed nobody's love. He just wanted to scare people and to dominate them! That's clearly not the way you function…"

He snorted but did keep his hand between hers.

"Look at me, sister. I got more than he ever got in riches and in influence. In all but law I'm King of England and ruler over all its people and all the fighting men the Republic gave me. I'm what he ever wanted to become. I did what he was longing for. Did I do it out of my free will or just to prove to the ugly ghost that roams my mind that I was better than he? Or uglier still: am I doing it just to end what he began?"

He chuckled and shook his head.

"Am I his ultimate revenge over the world and over my own rebellion? Has he finally won forcing me into the mold he wanted only for our brother?"

She sighed and smiled at his hurting face.

"A long as you wonder about it there's hope." She pressed his fingers. "We are what we are because of him. No doubt about that. He formed us with his ugliness as efficiently as another father would have done it with love. We did most of what we did just to be different or just to be protected against some other monster we knew was lurking somewhere. The result is the same: what we became is his doing not ours. It's perhaps time we stop letting him win over and over…"

She closed her eyes and decided to try another path.

"Mamma's way was better than ours…"

He looked at her and she felt his curiosity.

"She was afraid of him and she was scared of what he could do to us but the day she came out of his clutches she decided that his influence was long overdue and went back to everything she loved before…"

He frowned at his sister.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I suppose you know where we lived while in London?"

"Yes I've seen the hovel where she was forced to live till her death."

Isabelle shook her head.

"It was no hovel! Not while we lived there. It was little and modest but it was secure and clean and the landlady was a friend who made us our meals for a very honest price. We could have lived in a better housing but mamma chose not to…"

"Why in God's name would she…"

"Because she wanted to use most of the money the Darcys were giving us to do what she had always loved to do: go to the theater, roam the libraries and the book shops and be invited by famous people who were holding salon in London." She sighed and smiled at the memories.

"I would swear that she spent her last four years going daily to the theater or to some famous salon where she could speak about literature with everybody willing to listen or to quote poets." Her smile widened. "And she just pulled me with her. I didn't really like it but it was so much more entertaining than our little apartment…" She closed once more her eyes. "Not to mention that I met Antony at one of those salons. And from there on it was much easier for me to pretend enjoying it."

He frowned.

"Antony? That's your husband's name, isn't it? I have heard he's a grocer's son…"

She frowned back.

"Don't you dare look at him from your high horse _monsieur le Comte_! He IS a grocer's son but he is also the man who was able to look at me as a woman and not as a Viscountess or like most did a poor refugee's daughter. He's kind and educated and he's a much better father than our highly titled progenitor ever was…"

He surrendered immediately.

"I had no intent to belittle him. I was just wondering how mamma had been able to accept a grocer's son as her only son in law…"

"Because for her he was no grocer's son but a highly appreciated connoisseur in poetry and theater. He probably spent more time speaking with her than with me but that probably did the trick. The day he asked for my hand he was very welcomed and we had no problems to get her blessing."

She, once more, shook her head before lowering her eyes to hide her tears.

"And it was the day after her acceptation that she died… I'm not sure if it was because she was reassured that I would have a future or because she did not want to be a burden for the newly wed."

I was his turn to take her hands in his.

"Her life had not been an easy one and she was probably very tired. I've heard that she was ill most of the time she spent in London…"

She nodded.

"It's true. She was very ill. Her heart showed signs of frailty. She had a few minor heart attacks but it never forced her to stay in bed for more than a week. Darcy's doctor in London came once a week to look at mamma. And I was always with her, she was in good care…"

He exhaled heavily.

"Selfishly I never thought of you and what could have happened to you… It was always him I was thinking of. How I would ki…"

"Somebody else did it!" interrupted his sister. "And for what the servants told us his dead was not an easy one. He was beheaded but before he was brought to the guillotine a lot of angry people came to tell him what they really thought of him. He was unable to walk to his dead and his face was so marked that the People's commissar had doubt about his identity. But it was him his birth mark gave him away… He did cursing his enemies."

She looked him in the eye and smiled at him.

"I'm sure you would have killed him. He was a bully not a warrior like you. But he would have hurt you with his words. You know as I do that he had that horrible gift. His blood is not on your hand and it's a very good thing. Family blood sticks forever and parricide is a crime frowned upon even in a wretched society like ours was before the people stood up…"

He nodes slowly.

"I no longer regret it… I spoke at great length with my wife and she convinced me that revenge and vengeance are not what I was really seeking." He shook his head. "I would have killed him just to show him that I could better him… And all I did since I left home had strictly the same reason. I realized that everything I did could be seen as a reaction to what he did to us…"

He stopped her reaction.

"I said could… Jane gave me a lot of reasons to see that underneath everything there was also _me _and what I was really seeking." He exhaled and a new smile came to his lips. "And now I'm almost again satisfied with what I did…"

Isabelle lifted her eyebrows in a way he recognized from long past encounters. And that single gesture bridged his present life to his past and sealed everything.

They had changed but, in essence, they were still the same siblings.

"Are you satisfied with what you are?" asked she.

He nodded and pulled her against him.

"Yes…" whispered he. "I'm satisfied with what I am. Because it is no longer important for me to appear. I'm just happy to be myself. I know I'm not perfect and that I could have done better but seeing you smile at me I'm no longer concerned about what I could have done better. I'm just concerned about what I'm going to do to never again regret anything…"

She tsktsked him…

"You're an arrogant fool, _monsieur mon frère_…"

He made his most innocent face and smiled.

"That trait runs deep in our blood, sister. I'll try to cure myself but I fear it's a lost battle."

She smiled back.

"I'll speak with your wife about that particular ailment. I'm sure she will find ways to help you. And if she doesn't find them your kids will with certainty, believe me!"

He closed his eyes and for the blink of a moment he was facing his dead father's angry face. He looked at it and was surprised to realize that, until now, he had been unable to look at that part of himself.

_Go back to your grave, dad! I no longer need you to exist. I'm my own man now and I'm willing to live my own life. Go back to where you belong and may you next life give you reasons to smile_.

He opened his eyes and looked at the door.

"If I understand correctly you met some members of my new family?"

"Indeed," agreed his sister. "And one must say that you took great care to marry into an interesting family…"

He smiled at the comment.

"The family was a bonus. What I did chose was a wife…"

"And it seems that you chose quite well, brother. She's quite charming and I'm sure she just now is very anxious to know how our meeting went…"

He nodded his agreement.

"Well let's do something to reassure her. Could it be that you could ask her to organize a meeting between me and your family?"

She nodded and stood up.

"I'm going to ask her. I'm sure every one of them will be rather thrilled to see the famous Geoffroy d'Arcy."

He nodded.

"Let's hope the brother and uncle will soon take the place of the famous Geoffroy d'Arcy…"

Her turn to nod.

"We'll see, brother. Don't stop smiling and you're sure to get what you want…"

Soon :

At London Palace and the UK embassy...


	59. London Schedule Making

At London Palace and the UK embassy..._

* * *

**Chapter fifty nine: London schedule making**

* * *

**London. Sunday the thirteenth September. **

* * *

"It can be done, they are the best!"

D'Arcy chuckled at Duroc's conviction. He really believed that his armies could do it…

He shook his head.

"No it would make a mess of England's roads and it could give an awful image of our departure. No I'll stick to my first plan. I'll take the first western and the third southern armies. It will have to suffice. The others stay in England for the time being. They'll be at Napoleone's disposal. I'm sure he will find a use for them and if he doesn't then they'll have ample time to prepare their journey to America in the best conditions."

Duroc shook his head.

"That means we'll get Lannes and Murat which is a very good thing but as a counterpart we'll get Kellermann and Bessières as the other two army commanders. Not the generals I would have chosen."

D'Arcy snorted.

"For now we are forced to it because ot the location of the ships we can muster and that means twenty thousand men at the most _and_ Kellermann and Bessières. They are not the most imaginative generals we got but they are loyal and obedient. They'll have to do…"

"We could…" tried Duroc.

"No we won't," interrupted d'Arcy. "They know their officers and for Kellermann he even knows most of his men. They stay at the head of their armies, they know best how to handle them, this is not a time to make experiences!"

"Why not? We'll not be for quite a long time in any heavy combat situation. The new generals and their staff would have the time to hone in their new armies…"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"And how would Kellermann and Bessières react? What would it tell them about me? No, they are those who are able to board it's them and that's it!"

"We will be short in cavalry…" insisted Duroc who hated hasty decisions. Too many soldiers had died because of hasty decisions.

"The horses and riders will follow as soon as possible. I still need them on England's roads chasing highwaymen. It's important for our image here, for the first time in centuries England's roads are secure. I want this land's people to see my armies as the toll that made it possible. It's with this dort of symbols that you build loyalty…" He winked at Duroc. "You'll have time to built them fine stables and cozy shelters before they join."

Duroc who was an artillery general and who despised his lofty cavalry counterparts made a face.

"We will do nothing of the sort. These cocky and lazy bastards will do it themselves, that's what they'll do… And since they are lazy and unable to do anything else than parade on their horses they'll live in tents as usual…"

D'Arcy chuckled.

"You'll have nothing better to do with your men, Duroc. How do you believe we will be able to scout the territory? At foot ? They'll do all the scouting and you'll do all the building…"

Duroc shook his head.

"I'm an artillery general what I do best is destroy and smash…"

D'Arcy shrugged while smiling.

"Not there my friend, not there. It's a virgin continent with a native people I want to seduce and bring into the new French mold. There are roads and bridges to build no city to besiege and shoot into rumble. We will give a new reputation to the term 'colonial troops'!"

"What about Quebec and Montreal? Aren't we going to take them back?"

"Certainly not by shooting them into rumble!" answered d'Arcy. "I did save London from war disaster and I intent to do the same for French Canadian cities. All cities if I have a choice. I want them to surrender smoothly and the best way to get that has been taken here in England. They know now that we respect the people and that we respect the people's property. We will be the good guys who have consideration for other's people life work. Generals who decide to fight to the last citizen will have quite a few problems to get the people's adhesion to their plan…"

D'arcy closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It did help to lessen the hurt.

"I hope the French Canadian will help us by taking over their cities. They'll do it if we are near enough and efficient enough to act swiftly."

He sighed.

"I only fear that they do it too soon. The worst-case scenario would be to have them revolt while we are still at sea and unable to back them. They would pay a dear price if they act too boldly…"

Duroc who was not a man with the habit to take the responsibility for other men's failures only snorted.

"They'll have to live with the consequences of their own folly."

"They'll probably die because of it…"

"Well, good riddance then! Mankind can only be better if the fools are culled out…"

D'Arcy laughed at Duroc's remark.

Who would believe that this giant of a man could be a soft an caring father whose huge hands could perform menial and delicate tasks just in order to make his daughter laugh.

"We are alone you and me, my friend; no need to put on your ugly butcher mask… I know you to the core. I've seen you with your daughter…"

"I've seen you with your wife, so don't patronize me! The father and the husband are different from the soldiers, that's a fact but that doesn't mean that the soldier is a sham. I hate fools and I hate even more the consequences of their failures…"

D'Arcy nodded at that truth.

"Well then my friend, Let's do it… Thursday we sail at Sun rise."

"That's the armies schedule, sir. We, we embark Wednesday in London port and we join the other ships in Plymouth and from there we sail westwards…"

Once more d'Arcy nodded with a forced smile on his lips.

"Indeed Wednesday… Let's spread the information!"

* * *

"Well I'm not happy at the news but neither amp I desperate. I knew it was coming, you remember? You told me quite a few weeks in advance that Louisiana would be our final destination…"

He sighed and kissed her.

"I'm sorry to rush you, I would have preferred to let you part with your family on easier terms but I'm just no longer free of my choices."

She kissed him back.

"Don't worry I'm a grown girl and I would have been much more unhappy if you had decided to let me here with my family till the confinement as most of the officers do with their wives."

He chuckled.

"No chance about that, without you at my side I'm only the shadow of my former self and that's not enough for what I'm preparing…" He looked at her with a frightening intensity. "I'll never let you out of my eyes, love… Never!"

She snuggled at his side.

"Aren't we possessive today?"

"Today, tomorrow and every other day of our common future it will be the same. I just cannot imagine a world where you wouldn't be at my side…"

She smiled and closed her eyes.

"Than it's a good thing I'm such an irresponsible future mother who just cannot imagine herself not in her husband's arms!"

He pulled her against him and just went on inhaling her unique perfume…

* * *

It was difficult to see the tears running on her cheeks but he could do nothing to stop them. He just dried them with his handkerchief.

"You knew it would happen, love. He never made a secret of his intentions."

She nodded.

"That doesn't make it easier, to know that tomorrow she will be going out of my life for months or even years… It's just impossible for me to fathom. I always believed we would grow old with our families in neighboring estates only a few miles distant one from the other. She would spoil my kids and I would spoil hers and we would see each other every day of every week of every…"

He stopped her.

"That was not a realistic dream and you know it. Even if there are a few interesting estates in Pemberley's vicinity where they could have chosen to settle, there is that other consideration you have to take into account. There are moments a husband wants his wife just for himself and it happens, I experienced one of those only recently, that these periods are much longer than a few hours… I want you to come with me visit all our estates and I'm really sure that I don't want my dear brother always being in our vicinity…"

That made her laugh.

"But you would see him settled near us?"

He nodded.

"Hell, love, even if is an arrogant and insufferable prick, he is the only man I could believe myself able of admiring." He stopped her remark before she could utter it. "I'm not saying that I'm admiring him! I'm saying that if I look at the rest of Mankind he could very well be the one I could begin to admire. He's, after all, as he's so pleased to remind the world, the most famous d'Arcy ever!"

She giggled.

"I believe his words are 'the most successful d'Arcy ever'!"

He snorted.

"As I said an arrogant and insufferable prick…"

"But you like him…"

"I didn't say anything of the sort…"

"Of course not, but the way you say it…"

He shook his head and smiled at her.

"That you consider yourself able to know my emotions and feelings only by listening to the way I say what I'm uttering is a high form of arrogance!"

She climbed on him.

"That's probably because now I'm a Darcy! Seems we Darcys are arrogant and insufferable pricks…"

"I protest, there's a dif…"

She stopped his protestation with a kiss and soon he had no more reason to protest.

* * *

"Ladies I asked you to stay because I have a proposal to submit to the family…"

Four pairs of eyes looked up from their needled work –_or book in Mary's case_– and turned toward their father and husband.

"I'm not forcing anyone and I'm even ready to dismiss the whole idea if you're all against it so don't hesitate to give your honest opinion…"

Mrs. Bennet frowned and looked at her husband. Since Jane had brought them the news about her sailing away next afternoon he had been very calm and thoughtful.

Unusually unsmiling also!

"What sort of proposal, dear?"

He hesitated… He had that little tingling feeling that it was the thing to do, that…

"He wants us to accompany Jane and Geoffrey to America," said Lydia. "That's what he is going to propose…"

Mr. Bennet looked at his youngest with surprise in the eyes.

He nodded slowly.

"I would have taken a few more oral precautions before uttering it but as a matter of fact that's exactly what I was going to propose."

"Don't look at me with such a surprise in the eyes," protested Lydia. "I knew you would propose it the instant I saw your face when Jane announced that they would depart tomorrow. For a moment you were dumb stricken and appeared shattered." She frowned at him. "You're quite easy to read papa if one knows at what to look…" She smiled mischievously. "And I trained a lot on that particular skill…"

He smiled at her.

"I was always sure that under all your mischievous behavior a fine mind was lurking! And I'm quite satisfied to notice that it is indeed a very fine and efficient mind…"

He looked at the other members of the family.

"Since you know the brunt of what I was going to propose, would it be possible to know your opinion?" He saw Mary exhale heavily and looked at her.

"Yes, dear?"

Mary closed her books and her eyes before speaking.

"I do believe it would be an excellent thing to be at Jane's side for a few months…" said she in her most doctor like speech. "She didn't show it but she was rather unhappy with the suddenness of her husband's decision. Of course never would she show anything in order to not trouble her dear ones but I'm quite sure she was shaken and afraid…" She shook her head. "On the other side I'm quite sure that Lizzie is just now weeping in her husband's shoulder because of Jane's sudden departure. It would perhaps not be a good idea to let her alone…"

"I'll stay with Lizzie…" said Kitty hastily.

Everybody looked at her. She blushed and went on.

"Not that I wouldn't enjoy seeing America but I do believe I have more important things to do in London."

"You mean securing Charles!" said Lydia with a knowing smile.

"I wouldn't call it securing," said Mrs. Bennet coming to her daughter's help. "It's evident that he's not yet very sure of his feelings and even if, sometimes, it's a good thing to separate two people to give them the opportunity to think about what they are feeling, I do believe in Charles' case that it would _not_ be a good idea to let him think too much about his feelings…" She stopped Kitty's protest with an imperative finger. "We've seen what happens when he is only under the influence of his sisters." She nodded at her daughter. "I think you're right to stay and it would do a world of good to Lizzie to know that you're staying with her." She smiled a mischievous smile very similar to Lydia's. "Since she's no fool, she will know that you're also staying because of Charles but she will have no doubt that you are first staying to help her and back her…"

She turned at he husband.

"As for me I'm quite interested in discovering the country that was so important in my husband's decision to settle and to hide behind the books of his study…"

He smiled a thank you at his wife and came back to Lydia.

"Well, dear, since it was you who spoke first we could perhaps have your opinion about the whole prospect?"

Lydia shrugged.

"I'm not against nor am I fro…" said she. "It won't change anything for me. It could even be that it would be a good thing for me to get out of London and England." She made a face. "I'm no longer sure of what I want… All I know is that I took that marriage thing evidently too seriously. I'm perhaps too young to focus on that matter." She let a shy smile blossom on her lips. "And I do long for my old self. I would give a lot to stop bothering you and worrying me. Perhaps a few months away would indeed do me a wealth of good."

Mr. Bennet nodded and finally came back to Mary.

"We've heard your sisters and it seems that one of them would stay while the other would agree to come with her parents. What about you?"

Mary sighed.

"If Kitty stays with Lizzie I'm coming with you papa. She's the one of us, Jane not included, who has the best relations with Lizzie. If necessary, she will know what to do to help her. Not to forget that Georgiana will be very pleased not to lose her new friend." She looked at her father and nodded. "I'm with you papa but if you don't have decided yet about our itinerary I would have a few suggestions…"

Mrs. Bennet's eyes searched for those of her husband and they both smiled. Indeed it would be a good idea to go away from England for a few months. And she really longed at knowing all those places which had transformed her husband without him ever speaking of them…

America could be his healing.

Finally…

There was just a last little detail.

"Ad what if he is not interest in our coming with them?"

His smile grew.

"I hope you know now that you didn't marry a fool Mrs. Bennet? I have no intention of asking him, dear. Since I have no doubt about Jane's reaction to our proposal, I'm going to ask my daughter and not my son in law! And for what I have seen of their marriage there's not a thing she wants that he wouldn't give her immediately… So don't trouble yourself with that little detail. He will agree…"


	60. London Port and English Channel

At London Port aboard the Republican Ship of the line "Gloire" (former HMS Coronation)

* * *

**Chapter sixty: London port and English Channel**

* * *

**London. Monday the fourteenth of September.**

* * *

"Hello, I'm Mary Bennet…"

The studious and serious black haired little girl looked up from her book before standing up and curtsying in a very elegant manner.

Mary curtsied back while smiling at her vis-à-vis.

"I'm sorry to disturb you but I believe I just recognized the book you're reading. Is it tome two of Jean Jacques Rousseau's book?"

The little girl nodded and showed her the book's front page.

"It's a gift from my father. It's the first English translation and since it's one of my favorite books papa thought I would better my English by reading it again…"

It was the moment she remembered that if she knew the name of the lady she was speaking to she had forgotten to present herself.

"Sorry to have been rude, I'm Emilie Sophie Elisabeth Duroc…"

Mary winked at her new friend.

"No need to be sorry, I already knew who you were, I asked Jane…"

"You know Madame d'Arcy? I don't have yet had the honor to be presented…"

Mary made a sign and invited the young girl to come with her.

"Well let's correct that little mistake I'm sure she will be thrilled to know general Duroc's daughter…"

She bent over and began to whisper.

"Is he really as terrible as everyone hints at?"

Sophie whispered back.

"I couldn't say, Papa is never terrible when he is with me and I must say that I rather doubt what people say about him… The most terrible thing I saw him do was frown when I refused to come with him without Emma…"

"Emma?"

Emilie looked at the right where an old woman was very carefully looking at the little girl and Mary.

"She was my mother's maid and she raised me since I was born." She lowered her voice even more. "My mamma died the day I was born. I never knew her but Emma was with her since she was twelve. She knows everything about mamma and she answers every one of my questions." Her jaws became very set and Mary could see that behind the cute little girl there was a will to be found! "I would and could not replace her just because she was, perhaps, too old to journey to the other side of the world… Papa was not pleased but he finally accepted that she would come with us. I promised him that, once in America, I would accept to let him hire a younger aid to help her…"

Mary looked at the old maid and tried a little smile.

She got the hint of a smile in answer.

"Why isn't she with you?"

"She took it rather badly that papa wanted to replace her. I believe she's rather depressed and she believes that if she's enough apart from me I won't feel it…" She smiled a little mischievous smile not very dissimilar to Lydia's. "I'll let her believe that she's right and I hope that she will soon come back to her former self. One must not be ashamed of one's age. It is a natural condition of the human being as is illness and death…"

Mary frowned at these words.

"My, my aren't these very cold words coming from a very young little girl?"

Emilie looked at her and frowned back.

"I'm not very young! I'm nine years and seven months old." She stood as straight as it was possible. "And I'm not so little. I believe that I'm much taller than all the girls my age I saw…"

Mary covered her smile with a little faked coughing fit.

"You believe? Haven't you measured? I know I always measured with my sisters who was the tallest and since she was a lot older than everybody else it was always Jane…"

Emilie shook her head.

"I only saw them… We never got to play together… Papa was very adamant not to expose me to other children…"

Mary's frown deepened.

"Not to expose you? What was he afraid of? That you got some horrible illness?"

Emilie shook her head.

"These last years were terrible years in France, Miss Bennet, and one couldn't trust anybody. I believe papa was trying to hide that we came from an aristocratic family. We would have been beheaded had it been known…" She sighed. "Thanks the Reason that time is now behind us…"

"The reason? What's the reason?"

Emilie looked surprised.

"The Reason is what is going to replace all the old superstitions and every other so-called religion. Now that we know that God does not exist we must…"

Mary got a real coughing fit this time and soon Sophie was tapping her in the back to help her breath…

"Thanks dear," said Mary after very long seconds where she had really trouble to breathe. "You're a very kind girl but I must say that your opinion about God is rather disturbing me…"

Emilie frowned before looking at her wide eyed.

"Ooh, you mean you still believe in religions' lies? I believed that since you read Jean Jacques Rousseau you were, like myself, cured…"

Mary took a deep breath and looked the little girl straight in the eye.

"Miss Duroc faith is no illness you have to be cured of! I read Jean Jacques Rousseau and I found his ideas interesting and revolutionary but never did they convince me that God does not exist!"

"But it should have! It's so evident…" Sophie opened her book and began to search for a specific chapter. She very soon found it…

"Look at these words… If you agree with them you will come to only one conclusion: there's no God and Mankind is an evolutionary mistake…"

Mary who had her own, very rooted believes, nodded at those words, took the little girl's hand and walked to a bunch of ropes where she sat, took Spohie in her lap and opened Emilie's book at said chapter.

"Let's read together and you'll try to convince me how words of a mere philosopher could convince you that God does not exist…"

"He's no mere philosopher," protested Emilie. "He's mankind's most…"

* * *

"What are they doing?"

Duroc looked at his boss and friend who has just discovered his wife, her sister Mary, her father and Duroc's daughter sitting in a circle on the flagship's deck and discussing in a very lively matter.

"They are discussing God's existence," said Duroc looking rather nonplussed.

He couldn't help but smile at his boss' own amazement.

"Sorry boss but it's exactly that. I believe it's my daughter who initiated the debate." He sighed heavily. "She's some sort of a bookworm and has rather radical theories about Mankind and God. I believe she spoke with young Mary Bennet who took up the gauntlet and accepted the challenge of the debate. She was soon joined by your wife and a few minutes later by your father-in-law…"

He shook his head as if he couldn't believe it either.

"It seems that there's an opposition between your father who is backing my daughter's theory that God does not exist and his daughters who are trying to convince my daughter –_I believe they consider their father as a lost battle_– that God exists even considering Mankind's fallen status…"

D'arcy frowned.

"Mankind's fallen status? Isn't that a very religious affirmation?"

"It is indeed and I believe Emilie did not recognize that by accepting those terms she was already giving her adversaries a point… Luckily your father in law came into the fray and demanded that all religious tainted terms were erased from the debate since they…"

D'Arcy interrupted them.

"You listened quite carefully it seems…"

"It is my daughter, sir and I have, as you know, quite a keen hearing." He frowned at his boss' mischievous smile. "As I said, Emilie's my only daughter and I was curious about the topic of Sophie and your sister's conversation. It's not so often that Emilie speaks lengthily with a complete stranger…"

D'Arcy couldn't help but burst out in laughter.

Indeed the Bennets would always astonish him.

* * *

"What's happening?"

D'Arcy looked up and smiled at his father in law.

The 'religious' discussion was going on with quite a lot of people involved but Mr. Bennet was no longer participating.

"You gave up?" asked d'Arcy.

"Not in the least but I think young Emilie has sound and proficient arguments enough now and that she no longer needs me to back her up against the united Bennet front…"

He frowned at his son.

"And you didn't answer my question…"

D'arcy chuckled.

"Indeed… I didn't." He looked around and reassured that nobody was listening he went on. "We will soon change ship. I'm looking out to see if the schooner I demanded will be at the rendezvous' point."

Mr. Bennet nodded.

"I was wondering why you chose this poor old bucket. She's impressive but she is slow as a snail."

D'Arcy nodded.

"I needed the people to believe I would be under the protection of a hundred guns. It always brings caution into assassination attempts. The schooner will only have two and I'm not sure that's a number impressive enough to give rash people matter to think over their plans."

Mr. Bennet frowned.

"And you're sure nobody knows that you intend to change ship?"

"I know it and the captain of the schooner knows it. Now you and that's the three of us! Not even Duroc knows about that little change of plans. It's him who has chosen this old bucket to make the journey. As an artillery general he's a stout believer in guns aplenty…"

"Better slower and safer…"

D'Arcy nodded.

"He just forgot that I'm a man in a hurry!"

"That you are son," agreed Mr. Bennet. "And does he know our real destination?"

That forced d'Arcy to look at his father in law.

"He knows, like every other captain of the fleet ,that our destination is Boston and I see no reason why he would believe that there could be a change in that…"

Mr. Bennet nodded and tapped his son on the shoulder.

"Yes indeed, son, why would there be a change in that?"

He chuckled and smiled at Geoffrey.

"I'm under deck. My wife and Lydia are very busy deciding where to put all the clothes we brought with us. I think it's time to force them to breathe a little fresh air before everything's arranged in our cabins' closets…"

He turned around and he could feel his son's eyes burning a hole in his back.

* * *

"An amazing ship, isn't she?"

D'Arcy looked at his father in law and smiled.

"That she is! I laid the plans and supervised the whole construction myself. She's the most modern fighting ship in the world and she's mine. Not very well armored but with her two heavy guns she's got the advantage of range over all ships of the line. And she can easily outrun all of my modern armored steamships. If she's not surprised she'll win!"

Mr. Bennet snickered.

"And the cabins are even more comfortable than those on the 'Gloire'. The ladies are overwhelmed."

D'Arcy nodded while looking at Duroc's closed face.

"But my favorite general is pissed off."

"Did he know you had the 'Dame de Coeur'?"

"Nobody but myself and her crew knew that she existed…" answered d'Arcy. "But that's not why he is angered."

"His daughter?"

"Yes and no," answered d'Arcy in his own mysterious manner. "She plays a role in his bad temper but not only, not directly… I believe he's not happy with our new ship, for quite a lot of different reasons!"

Mr. Bennet looked at the big general who was going through a very minutely detailed inspection of his new means of transport. And what he was discovering did not please him… Fast and with sharp teeth but with paper walls. And paper walls were not where he liked to put his little darling.

"It's not always easy to work for a man who distrusts everybody."

D'Arcy snorted.

"Distrust is the only guarantee for survival," answered he. "And it's no longer true. I do trust Jane implicitly."

"And you do well because she'll never be disloyal even if you lie to her for security or political reasons…"

"I warned her and insisted on that point while I was courting her…"

"I know and I also know that it did a lot to convince her that you were very different from all the other men she had encountered. I do really believe that it was even the turning point of her feelings. What you did was courageous and like every woman she loves to be loved by a courageous and dashing man."

He chuckled.

"And she just made me visit her new cabin. She's even more overwhelmed than my other women! How you were able to get her preferred things aboard is quite miraculous…"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"I'm a stickler for the details, father! I learned very early that perfection always lies in the details. And, as you know very well I plan weeks in advance. So everything she loves has been copied and she will find a copy of it here and in a few other places I hope she'll one day love as much as I love them."

He looked at his father in law.

"Since you'll find in your cabin's right closet copies of all you favorite books." His eyes shone with mirth. "You could perhaps bring yourself into considering being part of the people I like to think as liking me…"

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but hug his son in law. He got a hurtful grunt from him as thanks. It didn't stop him.

"I never didn't like you, son!"

D'Arcy seemed unconvinced.

"You always say that you prefer Fitzwilliam…"

Mr. Bennet did burst out laughing aloud.

"Of course I prefer Fitzwilliam, man. He's a perfect English gentleman while you are a wild French –_if we are unlucky perhaps even a Chinese– _barbarian. He's something I perfectly understand. You, on the other side, I doubt ever being able to understand you at all…"

D'Arcy frowned.

"And nevertheless you gave your daughter to this French barbarian?"

Edward Bennet snorted.

"Not my fault she prefers barbarians to perfectly correct and tame English gentlemen. But since I gave her the freedom to choose I won't allow myself to regret anything. It's her life and her marriage and it's no business of mine to comment on her choice." He looked his son in law in the eye. "But preferring Fitzwilliam does not and will never mean that I do not like you, Geoffrey. I'm insecure when I'm with you because I don't know how you tick, that's all… But I do like my daughters' husbands as the sons I never had, but thanks to very fine and clever daughters finally obtained, never believe something else…"

That got him a very weak smile.

He took his son by the elbow and pulled him toward the stern, where their womenfolk were busily taking possession of their new domains.

"Come on son, let's look for your wife. You look shaken and need an embrace and a few kisses to slip out of this ugly mood." He smiled at d'Arcy. "We wouldn't want you in that awful mood for the long weeks of the remaining part of the journey, would we?"


	61. Epilogue

Well this is it... The last text of book two. As you'll see there is a little change in the program...

But then is it really amazing? The Third book is not yet completed but I have found a beta reader who'll give me the opportunity to give you better texts. Thanks a lot to Karen who is very very welcome in this endeavor.

Aboard 'Dame de Coeur'…

* * *

**Epilogue:**

* * *

**Irish Channel. Night of the sixteenth of September.**

* * *

"Hmm? Shouldn't you be asleep at my side, _monsieur mon époux_? Must I spend my time reminding you that you're still officially injured and not allowed neither by your doctor nor by me to be up in the middle of the night?"

She saw his smile even if there was no light in their cabin. It was just luminous enough to be seen in the dark.

"I wanted to warn you. There will be a lot of noise in a little less than half an hour. I don't want you to be distressed. Everything's under control…"

"Noise? What sort of noise?"

"The technical word is a carronade…" answered he. She knew quite well what was hidden under her husband's technicalities.

"What will we be shooting at? Did we encounter the English fleet?"

"Not at sea. My guns will soon begin to shoot at Dublin's fortifications. It will take some time to destroy them in order to enter safely in Dublin harbor…"

"Dublin? But I thought…"

"Seems I lied to you and I hope you'll forgive me but I have a promise to keep and it's an important one."

"But they tried to kill you… I thought that…"

He interrupted her by brushing her lips with his fingers just before sitting on their bed and taking her hand.

"There's another thing I wish you'll be able to forgive me, my love…"

She just waited.

"There was no Irish assassination attempt against me. It was our dear cousin George Wickham-Darcy who planned it…"

She frowned.

"And why should I forgive you for George's treason?"

He sighed.

"Because I gave him the means to do it. I needed every body to think that I was in bad terms with my Irish allies and our ambitious cousin was the perfect tool to do it…"

She nodded and made a face he saw even in the dark.

"But I miscalculated the time the fuse would take to explode… I was showing off for Lebrun and…"

She took his hand and put a light kiss on his fingers.

"Husband you're way too devious in your little schemes… I'll forgive you but only if you make me a solemn promise."

He frowned. He wanted her forgiveness but he wouldn't promise anything which would put her at risk.

Once more she knew what he was thinking.

"I won't ask for something foolish, don't worry. Just promise me never again to try to show off while sitting on a bomb…"

"I wasn't sit…"

"Promise," interrupted she.

He nodded.

"I promise and I promise gladly. I was punished in more than one way for my stupidity."

She kissed his fingers a last time and jumped out of their bed.

"I'll go warn the Bennets. You know mamma's nerves. We wouldn't want her to panic…"

Thirty seconds later she was out of their bedroom.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

Mr. Bennet smiled at his son in law and took hold of his pocket watch, a fine Swiss mechanism d'Arcy had given him a few weeks earlier.

"It's about time! We should be in direct approach of Dublin harbor, shouldn't we? For nothing on earth would I be somewhere else but here on the upper deck of your flagship looking at the scenery."

D'Arcy sighed.

"How did you guess?"

Mr. Bennet laughed.

"I'm beginning to know you quite well, son. You're an honorable man and you try to hold your promises and I spoke lengthily with Kennedy and his buddies –_we share a love for Irish beer_– and it was quite clear that you promised them to free their country."

He looked at his son in law.

"And believe me or not but they never ever considered your going away before having done what you promised. They wouldn't speak of it –_when they were sober_– but they all knew we weren't going to America…"

D'Arcy sighed.

"So much for secrecy. I hope nobody blabbered about their suspicions or we're in for a very bad surprise."

Mr. Bennet chuckled.

"What surprise, son? The only intelligent thing they could have done would have been to try to intercept us between Plymouth and Dublin. But since they didn't do it, the probability is very high that, like your own staff and officers, they know nothing. And now you have the advantage of a much better range than Dublin's guns. At this precise moment, the sole difference if they know is that they are probably already running toward Galway or Limerick to get the next ship to Canada. If all their ships are not patrolling the Atlantic ocean in the vain hope to sink you and your fleet…"

D'Arcy sighed and chuckled at the same time.

"I keep underestimating you…"

"That's because you saw me in my lazy gentleman farmer outfit. It gives me that benevolent grandfather air you dashing adventurers do automatically consider as insignificant and safe…"

D'Arcy laughed out loud.

"It won't happen again, I promise…"

"Don't be too sure, I'm rather efficient in my role but if you do, son, I hope that from time to time you'll grasp the opportunity to ask for this lazy gentleman farmer's advice. Who knows, it could come handy!"

"Indeed it could…"

* * *

"You owe me a tour of Ireland," said Jane to Maureen while finishing to dress.

"Indeed I do…" agreed Maureen. "I was so sure that he was mad at us… That he would never forgive us." She shook her head. "I spoke with that clumsy idiot of a murderer. He really believed in what he tried to do."

"That's because he was a real freedom fighter with every fanatical aspect you were searching for. And that's probably why Geoffrey chose him to do the job…"

"He manipulated us…"

Jane looked up straight in Maureen's eye.

"He manipulated his enemies and to be sure that nothing would be suspected he manipulated everybody else! That's all and it wasn't personal! Don't let yourself be too Irish again!"

Maureen nodded.

"I'll be careful, I promise but it sucks to have been manipulated. I think you really know him better than I…"

Jane smiled and stood finally up.

"He's much too honorable for his own good," answered she while opening the door. "We'll have to teach him a little duplicity or his enemies will have it too easy to counter him."

Maureen followed while snorting.

"That will be difficult! He thrives to please you and to please you he believes the more honorable the better…"

Jane nodded and winked at Maureen.

"And he is right but I have had proof enough to be sure of it. Now what I want is his survival. And I'll do everything in my power for that…"

"I'll help you…"

"I never doubt you would…"

* * *

COMING SOON: IRISH FALL

* * *

**COMING SOON: IRISH FALL**

Hi, The third book is a work in progress (I just finished chapter 50) and should be completed in the next weeks.

Don't despair your favorite heroes are kicking and alive and I'll post as soon as I have the chapters ready.


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